Princeton Plainsboro Academy
by SinfulPerfection
Summary: Princeton-Plainsboro Academy is the most prestigious boarding school in New Jersey, but it cannot protect its students from the typical drama of high school. Will everyone be able to cope? AU, HOUSE characters in high school.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating: T for language, substance abuse, and some sexualness.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own HOUSE :(**

**A/N: Thanks for reading!**

Allison Cameron looked at the tall brick buildings in front of her in awe. In addition to their size, they were all the more overwhelming because of the students moving around in between them, running through the courtyards, chatting with their friends to signal the start of a new school year. Unfamiliar girls and boys rushed past Allison without a second glace, seeming perfectly at home in this strange environment. Suddenly, Allison felt incredibly small, and she clutched onto the handle of her suitcase as though it were the only thing holding her to solid ground.

"So this is Princeton-Plainsboro Academy in action," Allison's dad said, coming up behind her. "Nervous?"

"A little," Allison confessed.

"Don't worry, bud. All the freshmen will be new. You'll fit right in," he said in his usual cheery, encouraging voice.

"I hope so," Allison said. Truthfully, she wasn't so sure. When she'd been applying, PPA's walls had seemed to beckon her like a siren call. She longed to attend the prestigious high school, to live away from home, to begin to establish her own life. But now that she was here, the buildings seemed darker and more sinister, and she wondered whether she was making the right choice in leaving her cozy Pennsylvania home.

"Freshmen should go to the main office to get their schedules and dorm assignments!" a voice called out, which Allison traced back to a stubby little man standing in the midst of the commotion. "Everyone else should put away their belongings! Assembly starts in one hour!"

"There's the main office," Allison's dad said, pointing to their right. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Allison took a deep breath. "That's alright, dad," she said. "Watch my suitcase for me?" She gave the handle of the rolling bag to her father and walked towards the office. She knew her way around this particular building, because it was the one in which she'd had her interview. Right through the double doors was the secretary to the headmaster's office, and it was there that she headed now.

Four kids were already inside the room, as well as the secretary. A placard on her desk read Mrs. Withers, and the name certainly suited her. She looked about seventy years old, and her white hair seemed to become visibly thinner as the seconds ticked by. Allison joined the small queue that had formed and waited her turn.

"Your name, dear?" Mrs. Withers asked when Allison reached the front.

"Allison Cameron." Mrs. Withers search through a hefty pile of papers before reaching Allison's name. She pulled out a schedule and a map.

"You're in room 45," she said, writing the number on the map. "Freshman dorms are here," she circled an area on the map, "and your room will be the fifth one on the fourth floor. You should take your bags there and then come back to the main courtyard for the assembly."

"Thanks," Allison replied, taking the papers. She immediately went to her schedule and glanced down to read it as she made her way to the door. English first? That was going to be bad. But after that was math, which was a subject she liked. The teachers' names were listed below the class, and Allison wished she knew something about them. She hoped none of them would be too strict.

Absorbed in her schedule, she did not realize she was walking straight into someone until it was too late. "Sorry," she squealed, stepping back quickly.

"No worries," a voice replied, and upon hearing an Australian accent, Allison looked up in surprise into the eyes of the boy she had just collided with. Blond hair hung down around his face, and his green eyes seemed to check her out as she checked out him. Blushing, Allison walked around him and headed for the door. "I'll get it," the boy said, reaching out behind him and holding the door open for her.

"Thanks," Allison said awkwardly, heading through the door. The boy let it close slowly behind her, and as soon as he was out of sight, she sighed in frustration. Bumping into some really cute guy was not the way she had wanted to start out the school year.

She went back outside to see that her father had now been joined by her mother, who had finally made it out of the car. Both of her parents looked apprehensive.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright here?" Allison's mom asked with her usual worry.

"What's going to happen to me?" Allison said with a smile, yet the look of concern did not leave her mother's face.

"Where do you have to go now, bud?" her dad asked.

"To my room," she replied. "And then to an assembly. So I think I have to leave now."

"Oh, Allison," her mother cried, pulling her into a tight hug. "Call us as soon as you can, okay? I want to hear from you."

"I'll miss you, bud," her dad said, tousling her hair. "Stay out of trouble."

"I will," Allison promised. "I love you."

"We love you too," Allison's mother said. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Allison murmured as she took her suitcase. Luck. She was going to need it.

* * *

The dorms were relatively easy to find, since there were signposts everywhere instructing people on where to go. The only problem was the actual journey, which involved a fairly long walk past the field and gym. At least when soccer season started, she wouldn't have to go far for practice. But otherwise, the distance was annoying.

There were two large dorms for freshmen, and Allison went into the girls' one. Upon entering, she found herself inside a common room, which had a T.V., a fireplace, and a refrigerator, as well as lots of chairs and couches. It wasn't exactly the best interior decorating that Allison had seen, but it looked comfortable. Then came the unfortunate news. Her dorm was on the top floor, and the elevators were for emergencies only, which meant she had to haul her heavy suitcase up three flights of narrow stairs. "At least we only have to do this twice a year," a girl in front of Allison grumbled. "Now and at the end."

Once they had reached their floor, the hallways were wider and it was easy to get to number 45. Allison found herself following the girl who had spoken earlier as they turned into the same dorm. The girl turned around to look at Allison.

"So I guess we're roommates?" she asked with a smile.

"Looks like it," Allison replied. "I'm Allison Cameron, by the way."

"Taylor Greyson," the girl said. "You care which bed?"

Allison looked properly at the room in front of her. The door was smack dab in the center, with a nightstand and a bed on either side. The beds were against the side wall, and below them were two dressers. Desks were against the opposite wall, and there was a window over each one, looking out at the field and the top of the gym. It was small for sure, but pretty nice. "They look about the same," Allison said. "You choose."

"I'll take this one, then," Taylor said, throwing bag onto the bed on the right side. Allison moved over to the left and put her suitcase down. Then she edged herself onto the bed and watched Taylor unpack. She seemed like a nice girl. Her hair was long and dark red, which was a color Allison was envious of. She had long bangs in the front that ended just below her eyebrows. Taylor pulled off her sweatshirt to reveal a plain gray t-shirt over navy jeans. Nothing was a designer brand, which put Allison's mind to rest. Taylor seemed to be a lot like her.

"Are you going to unpack?" Taylor asked.

"Do we have time?" Allison replied, checking the clock that was on her nightstand. "The assembly starts at ten and it's getting close."

"Yeah, I guess we should go," Taylor said. Allison slid off of the bed led the way into the hall. Taylor grabbed her sweatshirt off the bed and followed. They joined the mass of freshmen that were heading out of the dorms and Allison made the journey back towards the entrance of the school in silence, taking another opportunity to admire the immensity of the buildings as she walked. When she got back to the main courtyard, she followed the steady flow of people into what had to be the auditorium.

"There are no assigned seats for grades," Allison heard one of the teachers call out. "Sit anywhere."

"Come on," Taylor said, weaving her way through a bunch of people to get a seat near the back. Allison followed her and they sat down. Allison looked around the auditorium at all of the kids around her. She spotted the boy she had bumped into earlier, flanked by two giggling girls.

"There he is, that's Robert Chase," she heard a voice say behind her. "The hottest boy in the school. He's a junior."

"He's gorgeous," another voice said with a sigh. Allison turned around to see two gossiping girls behind her.

"Who are the girls with him?" Allison asked them.

"The blond one is Amber Volakis," one of the girls said with distaste. "And the other one is her friend Nicole Mulligan. From what I hear, they're total bitches."

Allison turned to face forward and watched as Robert wrapped an arm around each of the girls. "He looks like a tool," she muttered.

"Well of course he is," Taylor said. "But still, he's a total ten. I could just look at him all day."

Allison laughed and the lights began to dim. All around her the sounds of talking began to fade out, until the entire school had grown quiet. A tall, authoritative man walked up onto the stage and assumed a place at the podium. "Welcome," he said in a deep voice. "For those of you who have not met me, my name is Headmaster Vogler. I've been teaching at this school for thirty years, and it gives me great pleasure to be addressing all of you today."

"Is this going to be boring?" Allison whispered to Taylor.

"Boring _and_ long," Taylor replied. "For sure."

"Princeton-Plainsboro Academy was founded in 1834 with a simple credo—to uphold the standards of behavior set forth by the first headmaster and founder, Dr. Billson, and to form a lasting bond with the other students and teachers at this school. To have integrity both inside and outside the classroom, and live our lives by the lessons we learn at this wonderful academy. Because otherwise, our years of schooling would come to nothing."

"That's not a very simple credo," Taylor muttered, and Allison snickered in response.

"We have high academic standards here at this school, and the primary goal of our wonderful staff is to help any student until they have reached these standards. We believe that every student is capable of excellence. We want everyone here to feel that their personal best is measureable against the same yardstick as the best of the student body as a whole."

"It's the same thing _every_ year," a boy said in front of Allison as the headmaster continued to drone on. "He could at least change it up a bit."

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps in the aisle, and several heads turned. In the dark, Allison could barely see who it was, but it looked like a girl. The figure walked to the row in front of them and began to slip past people to get to the empty seat at the center. She sat almost right in front of Allison, and immediately, the boys in her row turned their heads to look at her.

"Hey Remy," the boy who had spoken earlier said. "Coming in late to the first assembly?" he teased. "You should get detention."

"Shut up," Remy replied breathlessly. "What's going on? Did I miss anything?"

"No," the boy muttered. "Just the usual."

"Hey, is it true you hooked up with Jennifer Miller?" another boy asked. "She was talking about you."

"She has a big mouth," Remy replied vaguely.

"Yeah, you would know," the boy snickered, and he and his friend quietly hi-fived. Allison glanced over at Taylor and pointed to Remy questioningly. Taylor shrugged. The knowledgeable girl behind them leaned down so her face was right by Allison's and Taylor's ears.

"Remy Hadley," she said as quietly as she could. "She gets around. The guys love her. I think she sells drugs."

"And she does girls?" Taylor whispered back.

"She goes both ways, apparently," the girl muttered. "Every guy's dream, right? Anyway, I'd steer clear of her."

"Now it is my pleasure to introduce you to our new student body president, elected at the end of last year, Lisa Cuddy," Headmaster Vogler was saying, and he stepped down from the podium to loud applause. Lisa Cuddy waved as she walked onto the stage. She had black hair that was carefully blowdried and a friendly, well meaning smile. She looked older and more professional than the rest of the students in her khaki skirt and red button down shirt. Her red high heels clacked against the floor of the stage as she walked to the podium.

"Good morning, everyone," she said. "I'm Lisa Cuddy, and I will be your president for the rest of this school year. I don't want to take up too much of your time, so I just want to briefly introduce the rest of the student council. If you could stand when I call your name, that'd be great." Lisa introduced the other members of the student council, who, of course, Allison did not recognize, and then she talked about some of the goals that she wanted to accomplish this year. Then Headmaster Vogler went back up to the podium to introduce two new teachers and the new tenth grade dean. Finally, the dean of students, a man named Mr. Robin, went up to wrap up the assembly.

"Lunch will be served from eleven to one," he announced. "Freshmen should go to their dorms around noon where you will receive a tour of the campus. Everyone else should see Mrs. Withers before three o'clock to get their schedules. And you're free for the rest of the day. Have a great year!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, everyone stood up and there was a rush for the doors. Allison hung back and let some of the more intimidating seniors leave first. Taylor came up behind her.

"Let's eat," she said.

* * *

Dr. Nolan barely glanced up as the door to his office opened. There was no need, for he was expecting a visit at twelve-thirty, and that visitor had now arrived. The doctor allowed himself several moments to finish drafting a letter he was writing to one of his fans; someone who had bought his book on the psychology of psychologists had been so thoroughly interested that they had bothered to write a letter to its author, and this level of commitment to one of his texts was so unusual that it deserved a response. As Dr. Nolan typed, the boy who had just entered the room looked around impatiently, and the tapping of his foot become more persistent, pounding a rhythm into the polished wood floor.

"Please sit down, Greg," Dr. Nolan said in his usual calm, deep voice. He hit the save button on his letter and closed his laptop with a small snap. Then he looked up for the first time, examining the boy that was now taking a seat opposite him. His brown hair was untidy, his jeans were torn, and his band t-shirt contrasted starkly with the stiff, elegant décor of the office in which he now sat. His startlingly blue eyes were cold and unfriendly, and he gazed unfalteringly at the man in front of him, as though wishing to intimidate. But Nolan was unperturbed. Before he had come to be the therapist at Princeton-Plainsboro Academy, he had been a psychiatrist at a mental hospital. It had been a difficult job, though he had been very good at it, and he had come to the school seeking a calmer environment in which to work before his retirement. Needless to say, teenagers did not intimidate him.

"You look better," Dr. Nolan said after a moment's silence. "Much better." He gave the boy another once-over, nodding in approval. Greg looked back at him without saying a word. "You can't imagine how happy I am that you are back at school this year."

"You're right. I can't imagine it," Greg replied, his voice flat and emotionless.

"And your summer school grades exceeded my expectations. You're a brilliant young man, you know. Very talented. We are lucky to have you here." Dr. Nolan paused. "I don't suppose you remember that we first met at the end of the last school year?"

"I remember," Greg said. "You were there when I met with Headmaster Vogler."

"Yes, good. I'm glad you remember. See, I brought you here because the headmaster would like you to meet with me on a regular basis. That is, of course, if you're agreeable." It was not really a choice, but Dr. Nolan phrased it so. He had learned many times to make the patient choose to meet with him, to get better, for then the progress was much more remarkable. However, Greg seemed to sense the unspoken command in Nolan's voice.

"Last year, you told me I had to get straight A's in summer school if I wanted to stay. And I had to submit myself to regular room checks for alcohol and drugs. Well, I did the first one. I'm allowing the second one. So how is it fair that I have another thing to do now?" Greg leaned forward threateningly as he spoke.

"Greg, if these meetings will serve only to complete a requirement to continue to attend this school, then the point of them is lost. I want you to choose to get better. I want to help you conquer your drug seeking behavior," Dr. Nolan said, unfazed by Greg's outburst.

"How do you know I haven't conquered it already?" Greg asked.

"Our meetings will only take place every two weeks," Dr. Nolan said. "For one hour. This won't be like therapy. We'll just talk. I'll check in with you, see how you're doing, and then I'll decide how much progress I think you've made in taking drugs out of your life."

"Well, I guess there's nothing I can say to stop you," Greg said angrily, standing up.

"You're right," Dr. Nolan said calmly, "and sit down. We're not done quite yet."

"What else could there possibly be?" Greg muttered, falling back into his chair.

"The headmaster has done a great service to you and your family," Dr. Nolan said. "The possession of drugs in a dorm room usually leads to immediate expulsion from the school. We made special arrangements for you because we want you to stay. But you are not better than us because of it, Greg. We want you to give back to our school. We expect repayment."

"You do get your repayment," Greg said harshly. "In the form of a big fat check that my parents send in every year in donations. Don't think I don't know why I was invited back. I'm not stupid."

"No, you're not, Greg. Which is why we came up with a very particular way in which you can help our school. Mr. Cotter—you must know him, he's taught English here for years—is getting older. He often has trouble reading and grading the number of papers that his students have to submit to him. This year he's only teaching one class, freshman English first period, and he agreed to put off his retirement because we promised we would find him an aid. You were given first period free on purpose. When the headmaster saw how good your English grades have been, he decided you would be an ideal candidate for the post."

"So I have to basically take freshman English again?" Greg asked incredulously. "I have to give up my free period and go grade papers and talk with a bunch of fourteen-year-olds?"

"I think you'll find that you can both teach and learn from these kids. And I expect you to do a good job. Mr. Cotter is one of my most esteemed colleagues and I would hate to hear that you are disrespecting him."

"Alright," Greg said, standing up again. Fury was etched into his face. "I'm gonna go before you can force more crap on me that I never agreed to." He stormed towards the door and yanked it open.

"I hope that in time you'll come to appreciate all that this school has done for you, Greg," Dr. Nolan said as he looked at Greg in disappointment. "I sincerely hope that." But his last words were lost as Greg slammed the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews!**

* * *

As the lunch line crept forward, James Wilson looked around the cafeteria nervously. It was fuller than it usually was; almost the whole school was packed in today. His eyes scanned the crowd for one person in particular: his best friend, Greg House. Though he hadn't seen Greg all summer, right now he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

"What's wrong?" James's girlfriend asked from beside him. "Aren't you going to get something to eat?" Sam placed a turkey sandwich onto her tray and smiled at him.

"Of course," James said quickly, grabbing a bowl of chili, the special of the day. They moved forward and each of them grabbed a drink: lemonade for Sam and a Coke for James. Then the two of them left the line and headed into the swarm of students milling around the tables.

"Where should we sit?" Sam asked.

"I see Lucas over there." James pointed at a table near the corner, where their friend Lucas Douglas was sitting alone, flipping pages in a book too fast to actually be reading it. He and Sam made their way over, careful to avoid bumping into anyone and dropping their trays. There was far more excitement than there usually was, since most of the kids hadn't seen each other since June. As the neared Lucas's table, they had to dodge two girls running past them, giggling and calling out to a boy across the room. James rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Lucas," he said when they finally sat down. "Reading?"

"Hey James. Kind of," Lucas replied without glancing up. "Summer reading. I figured I should glance at it before class starts tomorrow."

Sam laughed. "Nice," she said. "Good way to start our senior year, I guess." Lucas looked up in surprise upon hearing her voice.

"Sam?" he said. "Sorry, I didn't notice you. Long time, no see. I mean seriously, I haven't seen you in like, two years."

"It has been a while," Sam agreed.

"So are you two, like, back together or something?"

"Yeah," Sam said, looking at James and smiling at him. "Two months."

"Our families went camping together in July," James said, "and we sort of reconnected then."

"That's pretty cool," Lucas said, and he looked like he meant it. James was relieved, but only slightly. He knew the hard part would be telling Greg that he was once again dating Sam, the girl who had broken his heart in their sophomore year, the girl who Greg had never particularly cared for. But he would have to find a way to break the news to Greg. Sam was one of his oldest friends; their fathers had gone to college together and he had known Sam since he was a baby. She was the only one at Princeton-Plainsboro Academy that he had known before he started school in ninth grade, and Greg would just have to understand that he liked her too much to let her go. Except, James thought sadly, Greg hardly ever understood anything anymore.

"Where's Greg?" James asked Lucas, deciding to check how much time he had before he would be forced to give his friend the news.

"Not sure," Lucas said, glancing back down at his book. "I saw him this morning, though. He's around somewhere."

"That's good," Sam said, and neither James nor Lucas had to ask what she meant. When Greg had been caught with drugs in his room last May, no one was really sure if he'd be allowed to come back. But Greg's parents were very rich, and their names were listed on a plaque in the headmaster's office as generous donors to the school. So if anyone could do drugs and not get expelled from PPA, it was Greg.

"I knew he'd be back," Lucas said, voicing James's thoughts exactly. "That guy gets away with everything."

"He sure does," Sam said, with a slight note of resentment in her voice. James knew what that was about. Sam was very aware that Greg didn't like her, though she tried to pretend otherwise. In fact, James suspected she didn't like Greg either. But whereas Greg would constantly bitch about Sam behind her back, Sam never spoke a word ill of Greg, even when James himself was bad-mouthing his friend. This only made James like Sam even more, and he knew he had made the right decision when he chose to get back together with her. Suddenly hungry, he grabbed his spoon and eagerly dug into the chili.

"Alright, I give up," Lucas said after a moment of silence. He closed his book and tossed it onto the ground next to him. "I'll just have to wing it in English tomorrow. Hopefully MacAllister won't notice."

"You have MacAllister?" James asked. "Me too. What period?"

"Can't remember," Lucas said, shifting in his seat to reach into his pocket. "One sec, I've got my schedule here." James reached into his pocket to get his own schedule, and the two boys laid them out on the table to compare.

"Hey James, we have Calculus together," Sam said, examining the two papers.

"That's a relief," James said. "You can help me out. I'm lousy at Calc."

"Sure thing," Sam replied, and for the next several minutes they looked at the schedules, talking about the classes that would be hard and which teachers were more likely to give out an A. No one but James seemed to notice that Greg did not make an appearance for the rest of lunch.

* * *

When lunch was finished, Allison walked with several freshmen back to their dorm, where they'd been instructed to wait for the upcoming school tour. The girls and boys split and went towards their respective buildings, outside of which a large group was gathering. Allison recognized Mrs. Withers from earlier that morning, holding a clipboard and ushering students towards her so she could take roll.

"Name?" she prompted as Allison walked towards her.

"Allison Cameron," she said, and Mrs. Withers checked off her name on a list. "Split into your floor groups!" she called out, addressing all of the freshman girls in front of her. "Your tour guides will come to you." Allison looked around, trying to find where the girls from her floor were grouping. She spotted Taylor and some other girls she recognized, and she made her way over. It was fairly quiet; no one knew each other well enough to talk much, and so they all stood awkwardly, waiting for someone to tell them what to do.

"Hi girls," a voice said from behind Allison, and she turned around quickly, seeing that it belonged to the student body president who had addressed them that morning. "I'm Lisa," she continued. "I'll be showing you around. Is anyone's roommate not here?" No one said anything, and Allison saw Lisa quickly count the number of heads. "Good," she said. "Before we start, maybe we can go around in a circle and introduce ourselves."

Automatically, everyone formed a circle, and the girl closest to Lisa began. Allison had always been terrible with names, and though there were only nine girls besides herself, she got confused and couldn't remember whether the girl next to her was Michaela or Mackenzie, and which one had introduced herself as Jenny. She decided to avoid addressing anyone directly until she was sure what their name was; otherwise, she would only end up embarrassing herself. At least she knew which one was Taylor.

"So," Lisa began once they'd finished. "This is the south corner of the campus, which we call the freshmen corner. As you've noticed, all of you fit into two dorms, one for girls and one for boys. In front of us is the field, which you can see from here. And then beyond that are the pool and tennis courts, and then the gym in the north corner. That way," Lisa pointed towards the west, "is the cafeteria, where you guys came from. We're going to walk over there." Lisa headed for the cafeteria, and all of the girls followed. A few other groups were close to them; others were going towards the field. Taylor caught up with Allison as they walked.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"It's way bigger than I thought. I didn't even see this area when I came for my interview in February," Allison replied in awe.

"Yeah, I know, it's huge," Taylor said. "My brother warned me that freshman dorms are the farthest from the classrooms. He said we have to leave a good five minutes before everyone else to be on time."

"That sucks," Allison said. "I didn't know you have a brother. You're lucky, you probably know people."

"He's a senior," Taylor said, "and he thinks I'm the lamest person ever. So he never really introduces me to anyone. But I guess I do kind of know my way around the school."

"Good," Allison replied. "You can help me."

"Here's the cafeteria," Lisa called out as they passed by the large building. A few kids were still inside, grabbing the last bits of food before lunch stopped being served. They walked to the front of the cafeteria and found themselves in the long courtyard which ended with the entrance gate and the admissions building, bordered on both sides by large, brick houses. "These are the classrooms," Lisa said. "There are buildings for math, science, language, and history, and any other classes you take will be in one of those. Also, all the teacher's offices are in the building of the subject they teach. It's pretty easy to find everything."

"What about the other two buildings?" one girl asked, and Allison realized that she was right; there were six buildings that bordered the courtyard.

"One is the auditorium, where we were this morning, and the larger one is the library," she said. "Most of the kids study there; the library is really big. Come on, let's go this way." Lisa led them past the courtyard with the classrooms and up a hill into another courtyard, which was also surrounded by six buildings, except these were larger and more closely resembled the freshmen dorms.

"Now we are at the west end of the campus. These are where the sophomores and juniors stay, as well as some seniors," Lisa told them. "There are three for boys and three for girls, but they aren't grade-specific. You get placed in one of the dorms next year, and you live in it for the next two or three years. At the end of this year, you can request a dorm to be with your friends. And you also get to choose your roommate."

"Yeah, right," Taylor muttered.

"What do you mean?" Allison whispered back.

"I mean freshmen don't really get to request anything. The sophomores and juniors decide where you stay. Actually, the juniors and sophomores in Hamilton decide where you stay."

"What's Hamilton?"

"The biggest one," Taylor said, pointing to a building across the courtyard. Allison hadn't noticed that it was much bigger than the others, but now as she looked, she realized it looked more elegant and was probably quite a bit older. "That's where the popular girls live, and they decide who gets to live there with them."

"What about the other dorms?" Allison asked.

"One of them is called Brode, but I'm not sure which," Taylor replied. "That's where the jock boys live. The hottest boys. And again, they decide which freshmen can move in. And then there's JM, Jonathon-Michael, which is boys, mostly the nerds. And the really freaky boys live in Clifton."

"Wow, how do you know all this?"

"Riley told me," Taylor said. "My brother. One of the few useful things he's ever said. For the girls, besides Hamilton, there's also Leighton Hall and Campbell. Leighton Hall is where we'll end up, hopefully. Campbell is for the druggies."

"But there can't be enough druggies to fill a whole dorm," Allison reasoned.

"No, I guess not," Taylor said, "but still, if someone hears you live in Campbell, they'll assume you're a druggie, and you'll have to convince them you're not. Because there are drug dealers who live in Campbell, so you obviously have easy access."

"Oh," Allison said. She suddenly felt nervous about next year's dorm selection, even though it was a long way off.

"Don't worry about it," Taylor assured her. "But just so you know. So you know who to avoid."

"Any questions?" Lisa asked, and Taylor and Allison immediately grew quiet so they could listen. Lisa had just finished showing the girls which dorms were which, and now one girl raised her hand.

"Is it true that all the hot boys live in Brode?" she asked. Taylor nodded knowledgeably at Allison, and then rolled her eyes. Allison snickered, and the girl who had asked the question turned around and glared.

"Not necessarily," Lisa said. "Like I mentioned earlier, you pretty much get to pick your dorm."

"You said some of the seniors live here," Allison said. "What about the others?"

"I'm glad you asked," Lisa said with a smile, which seemed to again anger the girl who had asked about Brode. "We're going over there now." She led them across the courtyard and they turned to walk south. "The seniors have the option of staying in their old dorms," Lisa said as they walked, "or they can move into one of the senior houses. There are six houses, and about ten kids can live in each one. Which is perfect, because only about sixty want to move out each year. By senior year, a lot of kids like to keep living with their friends in the younger grades. We get tired of each other," Lisa said lightheartedly, and a few of the girls smiled. When they left the courtyard, Allison could see the houses that had been out of sight because of the dorms.

"They were once real houses," Lisa said, "and now they've been slightly modified to be dorms. But they each have a kitchen, and real bathrooms."

"I see seven houses," one girl pointed out.

"One is for faculty," Lisa said. "There are several teachers who live there, and they make sure the seniors don't get too rowdy. This area is more closely supervised that some of the others, which is another reason why some kids choose to keep living in the dorms."

As they got closer, they saw several kids sitting in front of the houses, on the front porch. A few houses down from where they were, two boys were kicking a soccer ball. One of the boys glanced over at Taylor, and she waved. He gave her a quick nod and went back to his game of soccer.

"Riley," Taylor muttered distastefully. Allison looked the back of his head, which was now facing them, and it was covered with reddish brown hair, the exact same color as Taylor's.

"He's got the same hair as you," Allison pointed out.

"We look really similar," Taylor said. "Which sucks for him, because he can't even pretend he doesn't know me. Is this tour over yet? I'm tired of walking." She glanced over at Lisa, who was starting to walk east, back in the direction of their dorm, though it was so far away, and hidden behind to cafeteria, so that Allison could not yet catch a glimpse of it. She and Taylor began to walk closely behind.

"So that's pretty much it," Lisa said. "And you can always ask someone if you forget where anything is. Everyone here is super friendly." But for the first time all day, her words sounded insincere.

"_Is_ everyone here super friendly?" Allison whispered.

"Nope," Taylor said. "Not at all."

* * *

Remy Hadley walked the short distance from Campbell to the cafeteria alone. It was late, and she knew she should be hurrying if she wanted to catch the last of dinner, but the air was fresh and warm and she had no desire to hurry through it. Besides, it had been a long day, and she was tired. She'd flown into Princeton late last night, and then she'd had to get up at eight to drive an hour to get here, which was at least six hours earlier than she'd ever been up during the summer. And then she'd had people to meet with, kids wanting drugs or alcohol, rich kids—kids who paid her handsomely when she gave them what they wanted, and threw bitch fits when she didn't. She hated those kids and their stupid drug habits. She did drugs occasionally, and she drank too, of course, but she had no respect for the kids who spent hundreds a month on the stuff. Perhaps they were buying to resell, but she doubted it. She knew these kids, and they were always stoned.

Still, it paid well to be one of the few juniors with a fake ID and the courage to actually use it. Additionally, she had druggie connections in the city. So she put up with the whining and bitching and fed the addictions of PPA's model students, and then used the constant cash flow for her own superficial desires. Like, for example, the money she would get from her next deal would go towards paying for a new leather jacket. Clothes were important, she had learned. Having the right look was important. She was a badass, and it showed. That was why people trusted her to get the stuff that they needed. The very best stuff.

Remy drew closer to the doors of the cafeteria and was about to enter when she was distracted by the sound of people talking. Edging along the wall of the cold brick building, she stopped at the corner and listened to the conversation that was taking place just out of sight.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you," a young voice pleaded. "I was being stupid—I was a freshman."

"You're barely more than a freshman now, kid," another voice snapped, and Remy rolled her eyes as she recognized it. "You better cough up the cash unless you want to be hearing from us again."

"I've only got a few dollars on me," the younger boy said again, and his voice began to break. "There's more money in my dorm. If you just wait, I can get it."

"That won't be necessary," Remy said loudly, stepping around the corner. Four boys looked up at her in surprise. A short, scrawny boy was leaning against the wall, cowering in terror as three taller boys stood threateningly around him. Remy looked at the leader of the pack, the boy who had been speaking. "Eric Foreman," she said with distaste. "Still being an asshole, I see."

"Remy Hadley. Still being tantalizingly unfriendly," Eric replied with a smirk. "I heard some interesting rumors about you this summer."

"What did he do to you?" Remy asked, jerking her head towards the young boy. "Did he touch your backpack? Copy your hairstyle?"

"This little douche used to get in our way last year," Eric drawled, glancing towards his two friends for support. They nodded, but seemed reluctant to talk in Remy's presence. "We were just…reminding him that we don't put up with that shit around here."

"I think he's been reminded," Remy replied. "Why don't you let him go?" Eric glanced at the boy angrily but stepped back to allow him to pass. The boy shot Remy a grateful look before hastily heading towards the front of the cafeteria.

"Stop messing around, Eric," she said coldly.

"Sounds to me like you were the one messing around," Eric said, leaning against the wall and giving Remy a suggestive grin. "What's this I hear about you and that girl from Princeton?"

"None of your damn business," Remy muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets. She regretted her wild summer. But she wasn't about to discuss that with the likes of Foreman.

"They say you're the best in the school," Eric continued. "Me? I'll believe it when I…see it."

"That won't be happening any time soon, trust me," Remy said with an eye roll. "And if you'll excuse me, I have to eat dinner and get on with my life."

"Suit yourself, baby," Eric said. "You know where I live." And with an infuriating wink, he raised himself off of the wall and began to walk in the other direction, wordlessly commanding his friends to follow him. Remy gritted her teeth as she watched him go, angry that she hadn't been able to get in the last word.

_What a fucking prick_, she thought to herself.

* * *

**Penelope L.-In response to will there be Huddy? I won't give anything away. BUT I am also a Huddy fan :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter is a little short, sorry guys. It just seemed like a good place to wrap it up.**

* * *

"What do you have first?" Taylor asked through a mouthful of PopTart.

Allison let her fork clatter onto her unfinished plate of pancakes as she pulled her schedule out of her pocket. "English," she said with a grimace.

"Sucks," Taylor said sympathetically. "Still, I have math, that's worse."

"I guess," Allison shrugged. The bell rang shrilly and several students stood up from their tables, picking up their backpacks and taking their trays to the washing station. "We should go," Allison said, standing up too.

"Alright," Taylor agreed. They put their backpacks over their shoulders and went to bus their trays, after which they headed outside into the crisp September air. "Who do you have for English?" Taylor asked.

"Mr. Cotter," Allison replied. "Do you know anything about him?"

"Yeah, actually," Taylor said. "He's, like, super old. I mean, he taught since my parents were born. Riley had him in ninth and tenth. But he's getting ready to retire, I think."

"Hm," Allison said, taking all of it in. "So is he good or bad?"

"He'll be a pushover, probably," Taylor replied. "So good, I guess. 'Kay, I have to go that way for math."

"Alright," Allison said as she continued forward. "Good luck." She walked straight until she reached the English building and went inside, looking at the room number on her schedule. All of the classrooms were arranged numerically in the hall, and she found the right room pretty quickly. When she got inside, several people were already at the desks. She took a seat in the second row and pulled a notebook and pen from her backpack. Then she looked around the room. An old, portly man was sitting at his desk wearing bifocals and reading what appeared to be the _New York Times_. Near his desk, a boy with messy brown hair looked at her curiously. She looked back at him until the old man stood from his desk.

"Good morning, class!" he said cheerfully. "I'm Mr. Cotter, and welcome to freshman English. I also want to introduce you to my assistant, Greg House. He's a senior, and he generously offered to donate his free period to help out in my class. So he will be here for extra support if you need him." The brown haired boy by Mr. Cotter's desk raised his hand in greeting, and Allison was surprised to see that he had been the one looking at her earlier. As Mr. Cotter began to talk about course requirements, Allison could not take her eyes off of Greg. He had good looks to rival Robert Chase, in her opinion. But that wasn't all. She couldn't help but wonder if there was pain behind his passive blue eyes, and that interested her. Furthermore, he was volunteering his time to help out a freshman English class, which Allison found sweet.

"We will be reading many books over the course of the year, and the first one is _Catcher in the Rye_." Mr. Cotter pointed to the floor by his desk, where there were several copies of the book. "Greg, would you mind passing them out?"

"Sure," Greg said, getting up from his seat and taking the pile of books. Allison watched him as he weaved his way through the desks to give everyone a copy.

"I won't give you homework tonight, but otherwise, we generally read one chapter a night. If you remember that, none of you will forget what the homework is. And weekends count as one night. So you'll only have to read one chapter every weekend." Allison smiled as Mr. Cotter delivered this news. He was a pushover for sure. She suspected that the rest of the teachers at PPA would not be so generous. Greg reached Allison and she looked up at him as he placed a book on her desk. She hadn't realized that she was still smiling like an idiot, but to her surprise, Greg managed a small smile in return. As he continued down the row, Allison's heart was pounding.

"Composition is also a very important part of this class," Mr. Cotter continued. "After all, what's the point of reading if we don't learn how to write? So I would like you all to spend this class period writing about your summers. I don't care which part of it you choose to share, so long as you use your best storytelling skills and all that you've learned about creative writing. It won't be graded, but I would like to see all of them to get a feel for how you write."

_Alright, that's not so bad_, Allison thought. She was a lousy writer, but writing about her summer was pretty easy. And besides, she was certain Mr. Cotter would be forgiving if her writing was not very engaging. He seemed like a pretty chill guy.

"Also, Greg will be helping me to read all of your work," Mr. Cotter said. "Some of you will receive comments from him. But don't worry. He won't be mean."

Allison froze in the act of retrieve . _Dammit_, she thought. The standards had officially been raised. She struggled to think of something to write that would make it sound like her summer had been marginally cool. And she vowed to brush up on her writing skills. If she wanted this Greg guy to pay any attention to her, she was going to have to get her act together.

* * *

Mrs. Evans tucked her blond hair behind her ear nervously as she looked at the class of juniors in front of her. She wondered if she had made a mistake coming to Princeton-Plainsboro Academy to teach high schoolers. Her new husband had suggested that she try the local elementary school to start out with, being a twenty-five year old in a new town with very little teaching experience under her belt. But she had declined. She had always wanted to teach teenagers. Now, however, she wasn't sure she was up to the challenge.

"Welcome to Biology class," she said as she began to walk around the room, passing out papers to the students in front of her. "I'm Ms. Evans and I will be your teacher this year. This is my first year teaching at Princeton-Plainsboro Academy, and I—" She fell silent as the door opened and a girl slipped into the back of the classroom. The girl was wearing a black hoodie and torn jeans, holding a brown backpack over one shoulder. She walked quickly and quietly along the back wall until she reached an empty seat next to an Indian boy. Then she dropped her backpack to the floor and sat down, sweeping her hair out of her eyes and looking straight at Mrs. Evans.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"That's fine," Ms. Evans replied. Everyone in the class seemed to still be looking at the new arrival, and there was no question why. The girl was incredibly pretty. And in fact, she was the only one who was watching Mrs. Evans intently. Mrs. Evans cleared her throat to get the attention of the rest of the class. "As I was saying, this is my first year, so I'm hoping we can help each other out. I don't know any of you, so I'll need you to bear with me and I promise I'll learn your names eventually." She chuckled, and a few students smiled weakly in response. "As you may have noticed, I've passed out course requirement sheets to all of you, and the expectations and the grading policy are written on there. Every Thursday we have a lab. And the person sitting next to you is going to be your lab partner for the year, so I'll give you a few moments to introduce yourself."

For the first time since she'd walked in late, Remy looked over at the boy next to her. To her dismay, he was the only one in the room whom she had never seen before. "New kid?" she asked.

"Sophomore," he replied. "Lawrence Kutner. Pleasure to meet you." He twisted awkwardly to hold out a hand. She shook it.

"I'm Remy Hadley, and what would posses you to take bio as a sophomore?"

"I like science," Lawrence said simply. "I took a chemistry class over the summer, so taking it again this year would be a waste. I had to talk with the headmaster. He's letting me take some more advanced courses."

"I see," Remy said, eyeing his Star Wars t-shirt and cargo pants. "So you're what, some kind of nerd?"

"Actually, yeah," Lawrence said. "And you're what, some kind of druggie?"

"What do you mean?" Remy asked, looking at the other boy calculatingly.

"Well, what would possess you to show up late on your first day of school?"

"Alright, everyone," Ms. Evans called out to the class. "Now that you all know each other, does anyone have any questions about the course?"

"I have a question," Trey Johnson said, raising his hand up in the air. "Are you married?"

Trey's friends snickered and Remy rolled her eyes as Ms. Evans blushed. It was widely known throughout the school that Trey was an asshole. In fact, if he hadn't been PPA's star soccer goalie, he probably would have been kicked out a long time ago. Every time he opened his mouth, Remy felt like she lost a few brain cells.

"Well, that's not exactly the type of question I had in mind," Ms. Evans said, "but yes, I am married. As a matter of fact, I got married quite recently, which is why I moved here to Princeton." Trey looked noticeably disappointed, and everyone laughed again, even Ms. Evans. "Now does anyone have any questions that relate to this subject?" Nobody said anything. "Alright, if you'll take out your textbooks, we can go over the reading that you'll be working on tonight."

There was noise of scraping chairs and zippers as everyone began to search for their biology books. Remy reached into her backpack and pulled it out, surprised at how heavy and dense it seemed. She dropped it onto her desk and sighed. It was going to be a long year…

* * *

Amber Volakis lay on her bed in her dorm, staring at the ceiling. In the common room downstairs, the other girls of Hamilton were participating in a start of the year party, but Amber wanted a few moments of silence before she joined them. She needed to reflect. So far, sophomore year hadn't been what she had been expecting. What had gone wrong? Over the summer, she'd tanned, worked out, and hung out with guys in their twenties. She had acted way older than her age. She'd planned to come back to PPA as confident, hot, and popular, instead of the awkward freshman she had been last year. But when she came back, everyone had treated her exactly the same.

Amber looked around at the large single room that she'd been able to attain because her mom called Headmaster Vogler and donated money to the school. The room clearly wasn't the problem. And as she checked her appearance in the mirror, she knew her looks weren't the problem either. She thought about how she and Nicole had talked to Robert Chase, that hot junior, earlier. He really was gorgeous. She sort of knew him from last year, but not very well. Maybe he was her answer. If she could get to know Robert, get him to date her, maybe then she would finally get the power that she so desired. She could get invited to the coolest parties. Every girl in the sophomore class would be under her control. The more Amber thought about it, the more appealing her plan became.

She was going to get Robert Chase to be hers. No matter what it took.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for reading!**

"What are you guys up to?" James asked Lucas and Greg as he entered Dorm 4, dropping his backpack to the ground. The two boys were lying lethargically on the couch, staring at Greg's laptop, which rested on the coffee table in front of them.

"What does it look like?" Greg muttered without looking up. James leaned in and glanced at the screen. They were watching an old episode of _Fringe_.

"Didn't you two have class?" James asked, taking a seat in a comfy lounge chair next to them.

"We just got back," Lucas said. "And I can't hear what they're saying, so be quiet."

"You two sure don't wait long before hitting the television," James noted, ignoring Lucas's request.

"Yeah, yeah," Greg said. "Whatever." He reached over and snapped his laptop shut despite Lucas's protests. "How about we sneak into town?"

"I'm in," Lucas said immediately. _Of course you are_, James thought to himself. Lucas was practically Greg's bitch. And he was always game for sneaking into town, which was what Greg called it when they slipped through a hole in the fence, slipped and slid about half a mile down a hill (avoiding trees and hoping against hope that there were no snakes under the leaves that they were uprooting), and finally reaching the town, which had the same three restaurants, ice cream shop, and bookstore that they'd been visiting every weekend since freshman year.

"Can't, sorry," James said.

"Figures. You hate the town," Greg said with an eyeroll.

"Kind of. But I also have a Make-a-Wish meeting tonight. We're organizing a fundraiser," James said truthfully.

"You're still part of that club?" Greg asked incredulously.

"Of course," James said. He'd joined the Make-a-Wish club last year, a club in which they organized fundraisers to donate to the Make-a-Wish foundation. It wasn't very difficult work, and he felt pretty proud of himself after he'd done it. Plus, it would look good on college apps.

"He only joined because of that hot girl, remember?" Lucas smirked.

"Ohh, right, the freshman!" Greg said gleefully. "What was her name?"

"Amber Volakis," Lucas smirked.

"She's a sophomore now," James reminded them irritably. "And anyway, why does it matter? I like the work we do."

"Robbing the cradle, are we?" Greg said with a snicker.

"I just think she's pretty, that's all," James insisted. "I don't even talk to her. We're low on membership anyway and I don't want to be a douche and drop out."

"Fine," Greg conceded. "Go to your precious meeting." He opened his laptop and restarted his show.

"One of these days, you'll realize that I helped people while you two sat around watching _Fringe_," James said. "Just think about that."

"And on that day, you can say 'I told you so,'" Greg replied. "Until then, shut up so we can hear."

James rolled his eyes and stood up, grabbing his backpack from the floor and heading down the hall to his room.

* * *

Later that night, James showered and put on a nice shirt over jeans. As an afterthought, he added a small amount of cologne before leaving his dorm and going next door to find Sam. He'd told her to come to the meeting with him this year, and she'd readily agreed. Which was further proof that he wasn't going to these meetings for Amber. At least, that's what he told himself.

"Hey," she said, coming out of the front door just as he was approaching the porch. "You look nice."

James shrugged. "Thanks. I didn't do anything special, though," he said. "Should we go?"

"Sure," Sam nodded. They walked together towards the classrooms. "Do you remember which room the meeting is in?"

"104. Language building," James replied, and they made the rest of the journey in a comfortable silence. James liked Lucas and Greg, but sometimes he enjoyed the peaceful quiet of spending time with Sam. He had known her longer, and didn't feel the need to always talk when she was around.

When they got inside the classroom, there were only three other people there. James noticed Amber Volakis in the front of the room, her hair forming a curtain around her face as she looked down to read a piece of paper. Despite himself, James's stomach flipped slightly, and he forced himself to turn away. "This isn't everyone, is it?" he asked.

"Not _everyone_," another girl in the room answered, "but I don't know how many more people will show."

"What about everyone from last year?" James asked.

"Seniors," the girl replied sadly. "We couldn't generate enough interest to replace everyone that left."

"It'll be fine," Amber said from the front of the room. "We can set up the fundraisers on our own. And maybe when we have some more successes, more people will want to join." _Or maybe when they see how popular I am, they'll want to join_, Amber thought to herself. She'd come up with the idea to join the Make-a-Wish club last year to make herself seem more genuine and caring. But it hadn't really worked so far, mostly because the club hadn't made all that much money.

"I'm sure we can get some more support," Sam said optimistically, and she and James took a seat at two of the desks in the classroom. After five minutes of awkward chatter with the other two girls in the room, while Amber continued to examine her paper, a boy and another girl came in to join them. Amber looked up at the new arrivals.

"I think I'll start now, if that's okay," Amber said. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Amber Volakis. I'm a sophomore." The name came as no surprise to anyone. People knew who she was. "I was in Make-a-Wish last year, and was asked to take over the club for this year. We did a good job last year, but I think we can do better. At this meeting, I'd like everyone to talk about some goals we can set for the semester."

As she talked, James remembered how attractive he had found her. Lucas had been right in that he had joined the club last year because he had realized she was a part of it. But they hadn't talked too much and he'd pretty much given up on ever getting to know her. She seemed uninterested in him. And anyway, he had Sam now. So why was he still checking her out?

"Does anyone have any ideas for some fundraisers?" she asked hopefully. No one said anything. James could tell that Amber was becoming flustered at the lack of participation—he knew her well enough to know that she liked everything to go according to plan. He raised his hand, then immediately felt stupid for the formality and put it down.

"We could sell stuff at the Halloween fair in the town," he suggested. "I mean I know it's a ways off, but still. Tons of students go. We could raise a lot of money."

"Perfect," Amber said, relief flooding her face. She smiled gratefully at James and he smiled back. "That's a great idea."

"We could also have monthly bake sales," Sam said. "I think everyone would really like that."

"I think so too," Amber said. "But we should start as soon as possible. Do you think next week would work? We can all go out and get some cake mixes and stuff this weekend at the town."

Everyone nodded in agreement. "How about we have a meeting the night before where we all meet in the kitchen to cook?" one girl said. "That will probably be more effective than if everyone has to go in by themselves."

"That sounds great," Amber agreed. "Can everyone make Tuesday night? And then we have the sale on Wednesday?"

"Sure," James said, and no one else protested.

"Alright, then it's set," Amber said. "And we can talk about the Halloween fair when it gets closer. But I think that this is good for now." Everyone stood to leave. "And tell your friends to join!" she said. As they began to walk towards the door, Sam took James's hand.

"I didn't know Amber Volakis was president," she said once they had left. "How come you weren't made president? You're a senior."

James shrugged. "She's more into it than me I guess. And, I don't know, Amber usually gets what she wants."

"Clearly," Sam said unhappily. They walked back to the dorms in silence again, but it was less comfortable than it had been before. When they reached the houses, James saw Greg and Lucas sitting on the front porch playing cards. He quickly let go of Sam's hand, scratching the back of his neck as an excuse. Just as he did so, Greg glanced over at them.

"Alright, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," James said, keeping a careful distance from Sam.

"Okay. Goodnight," she replied. James hurried away before she could try to kiss him. He walked quickly to the porch where Greg and Lucas were sitting.

"What were you doing with Sam?" Greg asked suspiciously.

"She's in Make-a-Wish too. We were just talking," James said, taking a seat next to his friends. Lucas looked at James curiously, but he ignored it.

"Is she still a bitch?" Greg asked, looking back at his cards.

"Ha ha, that's my ex you're talking about," James said with a note of anger, and Greg dropped the subject.

"Do you have any twos?" he asked.

"Go fish," Lucas said.

"Can I play?" James asked.

"Next round," Greg said. "This is getting pretty competitive."

"Whatever," James said, rolling his eyes.

"Hey guys," a girl's voice called out, and they turned to see Lisa Cuddy approaching their porch. Greg and Lucas exchanged devilish looks as she came closer. "I'm wondering if you guys would be interested in buying 'Seniors' shirts. We want to sell them but we're trying to see the level of interest first."

"Will they be tight and low cut?" Greg asked.

"No," Lisa said, narrowing her eyes. "Why?"

"Well then how will you wear it?" he replied with a smirk.

"Yeah, make sure they make your ass look good," Lucas said. "Otherwise don't bother getting them."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "It'd help if you were serious about this," she said, looking hopefully at James. He shrugged.

"I'd buy one," he said. "I think it's a good idea."

"Thanks," she said, and she glared over at James and Greg. "Let me know if you two change your mind. I'll send out an order form." She left the front of their house and walked on to the next one.

"I think it's a good idea!" Greg said in a high pitched voice. "Seriously, James? I thought harassing Lisa was our favorite sport."

"I grew up, I guess," James said.

"You've been acting really weird, Wilson," Greg noted. "Are you PMSing or something? Did your cat die?"

"Mr. Tickles is alive," James said defensively. "And I haven't been acting weird at all."

Greg looked at Lucas, who shrugged. "He seems fine to me," Lucas said. "Do you have any fives?"

Greg glanced at his cards. "Go fish. I hope you're not hiding something, James," he said, adding under his breath, "because if you are, I'm going to find out what it is."

"I'm not," James said, swallowing nervously. He knew Greg was right. Greg House usually had a way of finding out everything.

* * *

As James brushed his teeth before bed, Lucas joined him in the bathroom. "Hey James, I have a question," he said.

James spit his toothpaste into the sink. "Yeah?" he asked curiously. Lucas looked at himself in the mirror for a several seconds before continuing.

"Do you think Lisa would say yes if I asked her out?"

James was taken aback. "Um. Do you like her?" he asked in surprise. "I thought you always made fun of her."

"Come on, dude," Lucas said, "you know how it is. Besides, we were just joking around with her."

"Hm," James said thoughtfully. Truthfully, he didn't think Lisa knew that Lucas and Greg were just joking around, and that made the chances of her agreeing to go on a date with Lucas very small. Instead of responding to the question, he simply asked, "Do you think Greg would mind?"

"Greg?" Lucas asked incredulously. "He wouldn't mind. Why would he?"

"Well if you don't think he'd mind, why aren't you asking him this question? Isn't he usually your go to for girl advice?" James asked suspiciously. Lucas said nothing. "I think it's a bad idea. Sorry."

"Hm. Maybe," Lucas said. He looked disappointed. "I'm gonna go to bed, I guess."

"Alright, 'night," James replied, turning on the faucet to splash his face with water. Lucas headed forlornly to the door.

"Hey James," he said before leaving. "You think Greg would be mad, right?"

"If you asked Lisa out? Yeah, probably."

"Well, is that because he hates her? Or because he…loves her?"

James shrugged. He didn't have an answer to that.

* * *

**LGP-13: Now, I didn't say I wasn't going to do Huddy. This story will be pretty long and there's plenty of time for plot twists...if you know what I mean... :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So it seems I have a lot of Hameron and Huddy shippers reviewing...eek. You'll just have to wait and see...hehe...**

Allison rubbed her eyes furiously as she tried to read _Catcher in the Rye_. She was so close to being done with the chapter, but she also only had five minutes before class started. Why had she wasted her time last night on Facebook? She should have been focusing so she could give Greg a good impression.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Taylor asked from across the cafeteria table at which they were sitting. "They only have pancakes on Fridays."

"I can't," Allison said without looking up. "I have to finish this."

"It's not like anyone will know you didn't read it," Taylor reasoned. "Who cares?"

"I want to be able to participate in the discussion," Allison replied quickly, not wanting to get dragged into a conversation at this critical time.

"But you hate English," Taylor pointed out.

"No I don't. I've always liked English."

"Sure…" Taylor said disbelievingly, turning back to her pancakes. Just then, the bell rang, and she hurriedly stuffed the last pieces into her mouth.

"Don't be gross, Taylor," Allison scolded, standing up with her book still open in her hands. She looked down at the pages as she began to follow Taylor. "Don't let me bump into anything."

"Whatever you say," Taylor said, walking in front of Allison to clear the way of people. Gratefully, Allison turned to the last page of the chapter. She was so close! In her excitement, she stopped paying attention and bumped into the wall instead of going through the door.

"Hey, look at this!" she said, calling Taylor back from the doorway and pointing to a flyer on the wall. Taylor doubled back and looked at it.

"Mixer next Friday," she read. "Seven to ten. Sounds kind of cool."

"It sounds awesome!" Allison said enthusiastically, thinking that Greg would surely be there. "I can't wait."

"What's gotten into you?" Taylor asked in surprise.

"Nothing," Allison said quickly, not sure she wanted to tell Taylor about her crush just yet. "I'm just excited. It'll be fun. We'll get to meet some guys."

"True," Taylor said. The second bell rang. "Crap, we better go," Taylor said, hurrying out the door.

Allison ran to English so she wouldn't be late. As a result, she was breathless when she entered the classroom, and she had gotten there before more than half the class. Greg looked at her strangely as she collapsed into her seat, panting. Embarrassed, she avoided his gaze until the entire class was seated.

"I'd like to talk about the chapter you all read last night," Mr. Cotter said as soon as the class was seated. "In particular, I'd like to discuss the character named Ackley who makes an appearance. Holden describes Ackley as an annoying student with bad hygiene who comes into his room and disturbs him. How did you react to Ackley as you were reading?"

No one said anything, and Mr. Cotton looked at them expectantly. Allison took a deep breath, and then raised her hand in an English class for the first time since second grade. "Allison?" Mr. Cotter said.

"Well, I felt sorry for him," Allison said. "I mean, he clearly didn't have many friends. It was sad."

"You felt sorry for him?" a voice asked curiously, and Allison turned in surprise towards Greg.

"Yes," she said defensively. "Didn't you?"

"I'm not saying you're wrong," Greg said, though his tone suggested otherwise. "But I'm curious as to why. I mean, he's gross. That's why he has no friends."

"I think his being gross is kind of a vicious cycle, though," Allison said, and seeing Mr. Cotter's encouraging look, she continued more strongly. "Ackley is unpopular because he has these disgusting habits, so then he fears the negative reactions people have towards him, so he continues these habits to keep people at a distance."

"Why would he do that?" Greg asked. "Why wouldn't he just stop being so annoying and then people would like him more?"

"He continues the habits because he's afraid of getting hurt," she said. "He isolates himself and acts like he doesn't care about what people think of him because he doesn't want to allow people to get close to him. He'd rather not take the risk. Because he's been hurt in the past."

Greg's blue eyes bore intensely into hers. Something had changed in his expression. He no longer seemed critical of her ideas. On the contrary, he seemed to be thinking hard about what she had said. She looked back at him unwaveringly, and Allison forgot entirely about the rest of the class. All that mattered was Greg's response. As they looked at each other in silence, Greg slowly began to smile. It was a small smile, but there was no mistaking it.

"You have a good point," he conceded.

"Yes, excellent point, Allison," Mr. Cotter said joyfully. "See, this is the type of discussion I want to facilitate in the classroom. Well done, Greg and Allison, way to challenge each other. Class, let's elaborate on this train of thought for a while."

Greg watched Allison as she tore her eyes away from him and faced Mr. Cotter again, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. He was inexplicably intrigued by her. She was naïve, she was happy, and she seemed so incredibly young. In other words, she was not at all the type that Greg would be interested in. But her words just kept ringing in his head. It was almost as if, at some point, she hadn't been talking about Ackley but about Greg House, the sarcastic sociopath, the student who lived on the border of expulsion, the one who was shunned by most of the student population. It was all in his head, he knew. Allison Cameron knew nothing about him. She didn't even know why he was really helping out in this classroom. But something she had said had freaked him out.

_Because he's been hurt in the past_…it was almost as if she knew.

* * *

"I'm bored," Chris Taub announced, popping another potato chip into his mouth and checking his email for the umpteenth time. He was sitting with his best friend, Lawrence Kutner, in the library's computer lab, and as usual, they were the only occupants. That was because almost every student at PPA owned a laptop. But Lawrence preferred the desktops in the lab because they worked faster and had larger screens—in other words, they had optimum gaming performance.

"How can you be bored?" Lawrence asked incredulously from his seat. He was engaged in some intense multiplayer shooting game and was barely paying attention to anything else. "You can play this game with me. It's so fun."

"I'm sick of playing computer games," Chris whined. "Come on. Don't you think we should be doing something better with our time? I don't want to spend this year in social oblivion."

"Speak for yourself," Lawrence said, turning off the game and turning in his chair to look at Chris. "I have friends. I've got the Harry Potter fan club, which has a lot of members. I don't know why you won't join that, by the way."

"Harry Potter club is not what I mean," Chris said, spitting out the words. "I mean why can't we do something _fun_?"

"You're the one with the girlfriend," Lawrence pointed out. "Why don't you just go hang out with Rachel if you want so much _fun_."

"Rachel's studying," Chris said. "And why do you dislike her so much?"

"I don't. I just think you should be playing the field a little more. I mean, you've been dating her for almost a year. It's weird."

"Hey, I'm in love, okay?" Chris said. "And anyway, on what authority is this coming from? You've never even hugged a girl in your life."

"They'll be coming to me soon," Lawrence promised. "Once I finish inventing a torrenting software that downloads illegally and is completely untraceable. And once the cash is pouring in."

"Sure," Chris snorted. "Let me know when that happens." He sighed. "I wish we had a car. Then we could drive around on weekends instead of staying in the lame old town."

"That would be cool if one of us could drive," Lawrence pointed out.

"I got my permit over the summer," Chris said. "It doesn't matter, though. Sophomores aren't allowed to have cars here."

"You're such a goody goody," Lawrence said. "No wonder we don't have any fun. You know what I think we should do?"

"What?" Chris asked.

"We should make some money," Lawrence said. "I don't know how, but we gotta do it. Then we can buy wheels. The girls will be all over us if we have a car."

"I like your thinking," Chris said enthusiastically. "But how would we get money? What would people around here want to buy?"

Lawrence shrugged. "Homework?" he suggested. "Essays?"

"I'm sure as hell not slaving over a bunch of essays," Chris said. "It's not worth it. We'll have to think of something else."

"Feel free to think of some ideas," Lawrence said irritably. "If you're just going to shoot mine down."

"The only thing people buy from each other around her is alcohol," Chris said, bummed.

"Well we can sell that," Lawrence said.

"Yeah, and how would we get it?"

"We could…" Lawrence paused. "Oh my God, I've got it. Fake IDs!"

"What are you talking about?" Chris asked incredulously. "You want to make fake IDs for ourselves?"

"No," Lawrence said excitedly. "I want to make fake IDs for other people! We can sell them."

"I don't know…" Chris said. "Rachel won't like that at all."

"Rachel? You're so _boring_ when you have to listen to what she says. Besides, it will be so easy, and I bet we'll get tons of business."

"We can still do it," Chris said. "We just need to stay on the DL. Keep it quiet. Don't tell her about it."

"There's one problem, though," Lawrence said. "I know we have to keep quiet, but how are we going to get any customers? No one knows us."

"I don't know," Chris said. "We have to find some way to advertise. Start a rumor or something."

"Well how do you do that?" Lawrence said. "I've never even _heard_ a rumor before, let alone started one."

Chris was about to respond, but he grew quiet at the sudden footsteps from the hallway, heading towards the door. He and Lawrence exchanged nervous looks as the steps came closer. Then a girl walked by the door. She had cute blond hair and was wearing a short skirt and a low cut t-shirt. She paused in the doorway and looked inside.

"Hey Chris," she said, smiling sweetly.

"Hey Maya," he replied, breathing a sigh of relief. He had been worried that the footsteps belonged to a teacher.

"Whatcha doing?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Just hanging out, I guess," Chris shrugged. "Oh, this is my friend Lawrence."

"Nice to meet you," Lawrence nodded, trying to act cool. It didn't work.

"Cool," she said. "Well, I should get going. I was on my way to the library."

"Yeah, alright," Chris said. "I'll see you around." He waved slightly as Maya walked out of sight.

"Dude," Lawrence hissed. "Who the hell was that?"

"Just this girl, Maya," Chris shrugged. "I think she likes me or something. She's always saying hi."

"She's _hot_," Lawrence said. "More importantly, she's popular!"

"Yeah, so?" Chris said. "I don't care how popular she is. I have a girlfriend already."

"She's not for you to date, dumbass," Lawrence said. "She's for us. For our business."

"What do you mean?" Chris asked, confused.

"I mean, I think I just found our advertising department."

* * *

**SlaveToLiterature: Of course there will be drama! Don't you worry.**


	6. Chapter 6

As James rolled onto solid pavement, he kicked off his shoes and dumped the leaves out of them, swearing as he went. Greg and Lucas rolled up behind him, and they each began to empty their shoes in the same way. "Ah, the town, how I've missed it," Lucas said sarcastically.

"It beats hanging around the campus," Greg noted. "Seriously, I can't figure out what you have against it."

"It's not the town so much as the journey," Lucas said. "I wish you had found a way to sneak out the front gates or something. So we could use the road."

"That wouldn't be as badass," Greg said. "Besides, we needed to be off campus for what I have planned."

"This doesn't sound good," James said, pulling his shoes back on. "Where are we going?"

"To Alfio's," Greg said simply, leading the way. Alfio's was an Italian restaurant, one of the three sit-down places in the town. It was always full of the same two old couples and the ninth graders on awkward first dates. It was considered to be the worst of the three restaurants. The Japanese and burger joints got more of a diverse crowd.

"Why the hell would we go there?" Lucas said, voicing James's thoughts exactly.

"You'll see," Greg said in a singsong voice. James followed with some trepidation. Since the drug incident last year, he didn't trust Greg at all. And if he was going to be breaking school rules, he wanted it to be for sneaking into Sam's room, not for going to some shitty little town.

"We're going behind the restaurant," Greg announced, and suddenly James and Lucas knew what Greg had in mind. Behind Alfio's was an alleyway which no one ever used, except for the kids at PPA, of course. James experienced a sinking sensation in his stomach.

"No way! You brought dope?" Lucas asked.

"Keep your voice down, dipshit!" Greg hissed. "And yeah. Got it in my jacket." He patted his jacket pocket affectionately. They were quiet for several minutes as they slipped past the front of the restaurant and into the alleyway.

"You know you have regular room checks, right?" James reminded Greg as he pulled three joints out of his pocket.

"Of course I know that. That's why I didn't keep it in my room." Greg handed James a joint, which he took after some hesitation.

"Where did you keep it, then?" he asked.

"I bought it today," Greg said. "I've been keeping it in my jacket."

"Who do you buy from on such short notice like this?" Lucas asked. "Your mysterious friend Thirteen?"

"Yep," Greg said. "More expensive, but Thirteen always has what I need." He pulled out a lighter and said sentimentally, "I'm the most loyal customer."

"What is Thirteen, anyway?" James said, lighting his joint and immediately feeling dizzy as he breathed in. It had been a while since he'd gotten high. "Is that like some gang moniker or something?"

"It's code," Greg replied simply. "See, aren't you glad we came to town?"

"Fuck yeah," Lucas said stupidly, displaying his normal tendency to act stoned before he really was. "Hey, are you guys going to that mixer next week?"

"Yeah," James replied.

Greg shrugged. "If I feel like it." He puffed at his joint enthusiastically. "Come on, admit it James. You've missed this."

"Sure," James said with a smile. But he didn't quite mean it. They'd snuck into the town before to smoke pot, but this was different somehow. The shock of Greg's near-suspension was weighing on him and he couldn't fully relax. He finally knew the consequences of what they were doing, and he finally realized how childish it was. Greg swore he would get clean. Why hadn't he? What would it take to make him understand?

* * *

"Get your baked goods here!" James called out. "Everything fifty cents!"

"It's for a good cause, people!" Amber called out after him. They were with the rest of the Make-a-Wish club at the table they had set up that morning, and they were selling their goods outside the cafeteria during the lunchtime rush. They were getting pretty good business, too. Amber had never been more proud. "Hey, Robert!" she called out, spotting him among the crowd. "Come buy something."

Robert made his way past the line and right towards Amber. "Alright, what should I get?" he asked.

"You should get these," she said, pointing to a stack of chocolate chip cookies. "I made them myself."

"Oh no," Robert joked. "I better not eat them, then."

"Shut up," she said. "I put a lot of work into them."

"Then I bet they're all sweaty," he said, grinning. Amber laughed. She was sure Robert was flirting with her, and it was making smile uncontrollably. She became even more ecstatic, if that was possible, when Robert said, "I'll take five of them. Please."

"Sure thing," Amber said, getting a napkin and tongs and forcing her hand to stay steady as she gathered his order.

Next to Robert, Allison was looking at the brownies with Taylor. "How much are they?" she asked.

Amber heard her. "Fifty cents," she said, ignoring Robert for a moment. She needed to play a little hard to get. "Can I get one for you?"

"Sure," Allison replied, reaching into her pocket. Then she froze. "Crap, I forgot my wallet." She turned to Taylor. "Can I borrow fifty cents? I'll pay you back as soon as we get back to the dorm."

"Sorry!" Taylor said through a mouthful of cookie. "I just spent all I had."

"That's okay," Allison said. "I'll have to go get mine. I'll come back, though," she promised Amber.

"It's on me," said a voice, and both Amber and Allison turned to face Robert in surprise.

"What?" Amber snapped. As if she hadn't heard him.

"I'll pay for it," Robert said. "There's no reason why you should have to go all the way back to your dorm for fifty cents."

"No thank you," Allison said curtly. "It's not a big deal."

"Really, I insist," Robert urged. Allison blushed. This whole situation was becoming incredibly awkward. Taylor was frozen in mid-chew, looking at Robert with wide eyes. Amber was flicking her eyes back and forth between the two of them, as though daring Allison to answer. "Come on, don't be so uptight, it's just fifty cents," Robert said.

Allison didn't like the idea of Robert paying for her one bit, but she didn't want to further reject him and draw more attention to herself. "Alright," she said quietly. "Thank you."

"No problem," Robert said, reaching into his pocket and handing Amber several bills. Amber handed him his cookies silently, and then grabbed a brownie and forced it into Allison's hand.

"Thank you for supporting Make-a-Wish," she said venomously, and Allison could only nod in response to the obvious coldness in her voice. With Taylor at her heels, she walked quickly away, and didn't stop until they were out of earshot of everyone else.

"I can't believe that!" Taylor exclaimed. "I didn't know Robert was so sweet."

"He was not sweet," Allison spat. She walked over to a bench that bordered the courtyard and sat down. "He was just being flirty and obnoxious. Now I feel like I owe him, which is exactly what he wanted, I'm sure."

"I think he was being nice," Taylor said. "Don't get so riled up about it."

"How can I not?" Allison said. "Did you see the way Amber looked at me? She was freaking scary."

"I know. It was awesome," Taylor grinned. "She was jealous."

"Yeah, well I'm not so sure I want people to be jealous of me right now," Allison said with a sigh, ripping off a corner of her brownie and putting it into her mouth. "And I'm kind of scared of Amber, to be honest."

"She's all talk," Taylor assured her. "She doesn't actually have any power. She just pretends to."

"And people believe it," Allison said. "Which gives her power."

Taylor took a seat next to Allison. "She's got going to be able to do anything to you. Besides, he was just being friendly. She can't honestly get mad at you for that. He was talking to her before that, anyway."

"I don't know," Allison said, unconvinced. "She doesn't seem like the type to just let things go…"

* * *

"Where should I put this?" James asked Amber, holding the large table that they had used to set up their baked goods.

"Let me help you with that," Amber said, looking up from counting the money. "It looks heavy."

"It's fine," James started to say, but before he could finish, Sam came up behind him.

"I was just helping him, anyway," she said quickly.

"Oh, alright," Amber said. "It goes in the storage closet in the cafeteria."

"Awesome," James said, shifting the table in his arms so Sam could grab the other end of it.

"By the way, thanks for doing the extra baking this morning, James," Amber said. "We really needed those extra batches of cookies. They sold really fast."

"Sure, no problem," James said. He looked over at Sam. "Ready?"

"Yep," she said, lifting her end of the table, and they began to walk awkwardly towards the cafeteria.

"This morning?" Sam asked once they were out of earshot of Amber.

"Yeah, Amber was worried we didn't make enough last night. So I offered to go in before breakfast and make some more stuff."

"Just you and her?" Sam looked suspicious.

"No, she wasn't even there," James replied. "She had to meet with a teacher. It was me and that other boy, Jake. We just made some cookies. It didn't take long."

"You should have told me," Sam said. "I would have helped."

"I didn't want you to have to get up early," he said. "It was no big deal. I just wanted to help Amber out a little."

"I didn't realize Amber needed your help," Sam said, avoiding his eyes.

"What do you mean?" James asked, startled by Sam's sudden change in demeanor.

"Turn left," Sam replied. "The storage closet is that way."

"Are you okay, Sam?" he asked in confusion.

"Yes, and if you don't turn left, we're going to miss it," she said impatiently.

"Alright then," James said, turning to the left and wondering why in the world Sam was acting so strange.

* * *

**Murphy: I'm not a Chase-hater, it's just that I don't love Chase. And I think that of the characters on HOUSE, Chase and Foreman are more one dimensional than the rest of them (just my personal opinion). So it's kind of hard for me to get inside their heads and tell much of the story from their points of view. However, they're both essential to the plot and will be making more appearences. Thanks for bringing that to my attention, though, because I didn't really notice that I had been neglecting Chase. I'll definitely work on that :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry this is so late! I had a busy week. But it's also longer than most of the chapters so that should make up for it :)**

"Do you think this is too slutty?" Allison asked, looking at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a low cut black tank top over short denim shorts, and the cleavage it revealed was something that Allison had not tried before. She spun around so Taylor could see.

"Not slutty enough!" Taylor said playfully from the bed. "Can we go soon? The mixer started ten minutes ago."

"Hold on, I still haven't started my makeup," Allison said, turning back to the mirror. She checked herself out again. "Do you think I should wear a skirt?"

"I think we should _leave_," Taylor said impatiently. "Come on, you started getting ready, like, an hour ago."

"I need to look perfect," Allison muttered, going over to her dresser and opening her makeup bag. "Otherwise…"

"Otherwise what?" Taylor asked interestedly. "Oh my god. There's a guy, isn't there?"

"It's nothing," Allison said, blushing. "It's just this guy I think is cute. He probably won't ask me to dance anyway."

"You never know," Taylor replied. "Have you talked to him before?"

"Kind of. But only in English class."

"So he's a freshman, then? Who is he?" Taylor leaned forward excitedly.

"Not exactly," Allison smiled. "He's a senior. He's Mr. Cotter's assistant."

"Wow, a senior?" Taylor asked in awe. "And you've talked to him before?"

"Well, only about English stuff," Allison admitted. "But I _think_ he might be kind of interested in me. The other day, the two of us had this discussion about _Catcher in the Rye_ and he seemed impressed. I don't know. Maybe it's nothing."

"Allison!" Taylor whined. "I can't believe you didn't mention this. What his name? I bet my brother knows him."

"Greg House," Allison said. Taylor thought for a moment and then shrugged.

"Riley's never mentioned him. Well, that's probably a good thing, because it means he's not one of Riley's friends, which means he's not a douchebag. But seriously, Allison, this is a big deal."

"I know!" Allison whined. "That's why it's been taking me so long to get ready."

"Okay, first of all, I think you should wear the skirt," Taylor replied. "And then I'll help you do your makeup. No offense, but you're not too great at putting it on yourself."

"Look who's suddenly interested in my outfit," Allison smirked.

"Well, I decided it's better to be fashionably late," Taylor reasoned. "Besides, if you date Greg, I'll get benefits too. Getting to meet his hot senior friends, for one thing."

Allison laughed. "Let's not get too ahead of ourselves. I still need to talk to him outside of class."

"You will," Taylor said. "I'll make sure of it."

* * *

When Allison and Taylor finally got to the gym, the mixer was in full swing. Music was blasting and kids were packed onto the dance floor. A few teachers stood against the wall, but they seemed to be talking amongst themselves more than chaperoning. Allison led the way to the back of the gym, where several tables displayed bowls of food and punch. She grabbed herself a cup and began to drink, scanning the gym for Greg. Taylor got a handful of pretzels and joined her.

"Do you see him?" she said loudly over the pounding music. Allison shook her head, still looking through the crowd. Her stomach sank. What if he didn't come? She realized that he seemed like he could be the type to avoid school dances.

"Maybe he's not—" she began, but just as she started to speak, she saw Greg standing by the wall, talking seriously to a boy with dark brown hair. She nudged Taylor. "That's him."

Taylor glanced over in Greg's direction. "He's really cute," she said. "You should ask him to dance."

"What?" Allison asked in alarm. "No. I'll just see if he asks me."

"Ally, trust me, you should make the first move. Otherwise you'll totally regret it."

"But shouldn't he be the one to make the first move? I don't even know if he's interested," Allison reasoned.

"And you'll never know if you don't ask him to dance!" Taylor said. "Guys are dumb. You could walk around half naked in front of him and he wouldn't take the hint."

"You think so?"

"I know this for a fact," Taylor nodded. "I've had to spend way too much time around Riley and his friends. They have _no_ idea when a girl likes them or not. Hey, look. There's your proof." She pointed towards the middle of the gym, where the dancers were congregated. Robert Chase was surrounded by a group of girls, and Allison noticed Amber standing next to him, tugging on his hand while she danced. She inched herself closer to him, tossing back her hair and looking at him hopefully. Yet he remained completely unaware of her advances as he moved over to wrap his arms around another girl from behind, surprising her into a fit of giggles. Amber backed away slightly but continued to watch Robert eagerly, waiting for her turn to get some of his attention.

"I wonder if she knows how pathetic she looks," Taylor said, rolling her eyes. "Not that I blame her for trying, though. He's beautiful."

"He's obnoxious," Allison said, turning her attention back towards Greg, who had been joined by another boy. She wondered if she would ever be able to get him alone.

"Maybe," Taylor shrugged, yet she continued to watch Robert as he danced his way from one girl to another. "So, are you going to ask Greg to dance, then?"

"Not right now," she replied. Taylor frowned. "At the next slow song."

"You'd better," Taylor replied threateningly.

* * *

Remy lay despondently on the couch in Campbell's common room, watching the T.V. as it played another infomercial. She closed her eyes exhaustedly as her roommate, Spencer, came up beside her and began kissing her neck, running her fingers through Remy's long brown hair. Thirteen turned awkwardly on the couch to face Spencer, pressing her lips to her friend's and wrapping her arms around Spencer's waist. They continued making out unashamedly, knowing that almost the entire dorm was at the mixer and no one was likely to walk in on them. As Spencer tried to force Remy's mouth open, the theme for _Seinfeld _began to play, and Remy extracted herself from Spencer's arms to face forward.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asked.

"I wanna watch this," Remy said, facing forward on the couch and putting her legs up on the coffee table in front of them. Spencer sighed audibly.

"Why?"

"Because we actually have the T.V. to ourselves and I don't want to waste this opportunity."

"Fine," Spencer said disappointedly, lying down and resting her head against Remy's leg. "You know, we should stop this hooking up all the time. It's so immature."

"You started it," Remy said defensively.

"I know, I know," Spencer said. "I mean, we should actually go on a date one of these days."

"Maybe," Remy replied. Spencer seemed to sense the coldness in her voice, because hoisted herself off of Remy's thigh and sat up. There were several minutes of quiet as both girls watched the T.V. Suddenly there were footsteps behind them, and a few moments later, Eric Foreman plopped down onto the couch between the two of them. He laughed boisterously along with the laugh track, and Remy looked at him, annoyed.

"What are you doing here?" Spencer asked.

"Just hanging out," he said, looking over at Remy.

"Boys aren't allowed in here," Remy muttered.

"Like that's ever stopped you before," Eric quipped, and she glared. "Actually, I came to see why you weren't at the mixer."

"I don't mix," Remy said.

"Do you dance?" he asked.

Spencer laughed. "What do you think?" she asked.

Remy sighed. Suddenly, Spencer's voice was bugging the crap out of her. "I think I'm going to go to bed," she said, standing up.

"If you're sick of me, I'll leave," Eric said. Remy opened her mouth to say that at no point had he been welcome to stay, but as she looked into his face, she noticed that he seemed slightly hurt.

"It's not you," she said quietly. "I'm just tired." She turned and began to walk towards the stairs, feeling Eric's eyes on her the entire time.

"Goodnight," she heard him say as she reached the staircase. Against her better judgment, she looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Night," she replied, and he nodded and walked towards the door, leaving Spencer to look back and forth between them in confusion. Remy shook her head vigorously and began to climb the stairs, wondering what on earth was putting her into such a strange mood.

* * *

Lucas was antsy. He was sure Greg could tell, too, because his observant friend kept shooting him curious looks. But Lucas couldn't help it. He really wanted to ask Lisa to dance, and he was nervous. And on top of all of that, he couldn't even get some time away from Greg to do it. So he waited, glancing around the room every five seconds, trying to track down Lisa and hoping for an opportunity to approach her.

Lucas had thought Lisa was pretty from the moment he'd met her. A lot of guys didn't agree with him because she was such a goody two shoes, but Lucas thought her personality made her all the more interesting. He wasn't sure when his attraction developed into a full blown crush, though. Probably at the end of last year. He knew he was being elementary when he mocked her, but he couldn't help it. He wanted her to pay attention to him. He loved the look she gave him when she was mad.

When Lucas heard a slow song begin and simultaneously spotted Lisa by herself at the opposite wall, he knew it was a sign. He had to ask her now—it was his only chance. "I'm going to the bathroom," he muttered to Greg before throwing himself into the crowd, hiding from his friend and making a beeline for Lisa. He didn't even have time to feel nervous as he practically ran through the groups of people dancing. All that mattered was getting to Lisa as fast as possible.

"Hey, Lisa," he called out when he was close to her. She turned around and seemed surprised to see him standing there. Suddenly, Lucas became incredibly self-conscious. What was he doing? He couldn't just ask her to dance. They weren't friends like that. Lucas opened his mouth, willing himself to say the words, but nothing came out. "I—um—I…" he stuttered. "I was just wondering…" He trailed off, hoping she would understand, but she continued to stare in bewilderment. Before Lucas could continue, however, both of them were distracted by the appearance of a tall, large blond boy behind her.

"Hey Lisa, can I have this dance?" the boy asked in a pompous voice. Lucas's jaw dropped as he watched. The boy was Holt Davis, the high school's vice president and the most obnoxious, richest boy in the class. Everyone hated him. Lucas dropped his eyes to the ground as his face turned red. He had never been more disappointed or humiliated in his life. He was about to leave when Lisa's words surprised him.

"I already promised Lucas. Sorry," she told Holt kindly. Holt looked noticeably disappointed, but he nodded and left graciously, leaving Lucas to look at Lisa in an absolute state of shock. She giggled when she saw him. "Wasn't that what you were going to ask?"

Lucas regained his composure. "Yeah," he said. "I guess so."

Lisa smiled. "Well then, let's go."

* * *

Allison walked down the hall from the bathroom, mentally scolding herself. There was less than an hour left in the dance and she hadn't danced with anyone at all. Taylor had long since left her to find some more fun people to hang out with, and Allison couldn't blame her. If she wasn't going to dance with Greg, she could at least have danced with some of the freshman boys. But the thought of dancing with anyone else was unappealing to her. She only had eyes for the messy haired, introspective senior that had been standing by the same wall for the entire night.

As Allison walked down the hall, she passed the boy that Greg had been talking to earlier, leaning against the wall as a blond girl kissing him furiously. "Sam, I don't think this is a good idea," she heard him say.

"Don't be such a baby, James," she replied, and his protests were silenced as she began to kiss him again. Allison forced herself to stop spying on them and continued to walk out into the open of the gym, where the music was beginning to change. It was a slow song. She gulped. Now there was no other option. She had to ask Greg.

As she walked into the gym, Allison walked slowly, biding time and trying to muster up some courage. She saw a short Jewish boy in front of her talking to a brunette.

"Rachel, wanna dance?" she heard him say.

"Sure," she replied, smiling. He took her hand, and the Indian boy next to them rolled his eyes.

"Alright, ditch me, then, Chris," he said. Allison smirked as she continued to walk. She had almost reached the food table when she spotted Greg, miraculously alone. He was leaning against a wall looking around the room. With a deep breath, she approached him.

"Hey Greg," she said breathlessly. He glanced over at her.

"Hey," he replied.

"Um. Do you want to dance?"

Greg looked slightly taken aback, but he gave her a small smile. "Sure," he said, hosting himself up from the wall. Grinning, Allison led the way towards the dance floor and allowed Greg to wrap his arms around her waist. She put her own around his neck and glanced at him shyly, before looking away. As they continued to dance, she felt Greg pulling her slowly closer, and she leaned into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Both their arms tightened around each other as they became lost in the music, and Allison began to feel very comfortable and warm in Greg's presence. She glanced lazily around the room, seeing Amber dancing with Robert, though he was not holding her very close to him. She also recognized Lisa Cuddy, the student body president, dancing with a messy haired boy that Allison had seen talking to Greg.

The song ended but neither Allison nor Greg let go of each other. She lifted her heard off of his chest and looked at him, yet his eyes did not meet hers. He was looking over to the side, and when she followed his gaze, she saw that he was staring intently at Lisa and the boy she had been dancing with. He watched as they talked for a moment and then began to head towards the doors to the gym. Allison cleared her throat.

"Greg?" she asked. His head snapped back towards her.

"Sorry," he said. A new, faster song began to play, but he kept his hands around her waist. "Wanna dance a little more?"

"Sure," she said, leaning back into him as they began to dance again. "Who was that boy with Lisa?" she asked in his ear.

"Lucas Douglas," Greg replied, and Allison noticed that his voice sounded slightly harsh.

"Are you friends with him?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes," Greg said, and this time, there was no mistaking his harsh tone. Allison decided to drop the subject, and they descended into silence as they continued to dance. Surprisingly, Allison was not at all uncomfortable in the silence. She and Greg danced for several songs without stopping, just enjoying the closeness.

"I'm thirsty. Wanna get some punch?" Greg said in Allison's ear after the third song. Allison nodded, and they went through the crowds of dancers to get over to the punch bowl. Greg filled two glasses, and then led the way outside. Allison followed, sipping her drink.

There were several people outside of the gym. A group of upperclassmen were gathered around the wall talking loudly. By the bleachers, two boys appeared to be smoking. And Lisa and Lucas were sitting close together on the edge of the bleachers, Lisa listening as Lucas talked animatedly to her. When Lisa laughed at his story, Allison could see that it reached her eyes, and knew that Lisa wasn't faking. Greg seemed to notice them too, for she felt him stiffen beside her.

"Do you think they're into each other?" Greg asked in a forced casual tone.

"It looks like it," Allison said. "Why?"

"I don't know. I bet he's asking her out." Greg practically spat the words.

Allison gathered her courage. "Do you dislike Lucas?" she asked. Greg looked at her strangely, and she suddenly regretting asking. He seemed to think for a moment before answering.

"I don't like Lisa," he said finally.

"Oh. Okay," Allison nodded, but she wasn't sure that was the whole story.

"Hey, I have to find my friend James," he said. "Is that okay?"

"Sure, of course," Allison said regretfully. "I guess I'll catch up with you later?"

"Alright," Greg said, but he was already beginning to walk towards the front of the gym. After he had disappeared inside, Allison waited several seconds before going in to find Taylor. When she went into the gym, Greg was nowhere to be seen. She sighed. She knew she had made a lot of progress with Greg. So why did she feel so disappointed?

* * *

Neither Lisa nor Lucas noticed that Greg had been watching them. They'd been too engrossed in a story Lucas was telling about sneaking out of detention in sophomore year. Lisa was surprised at how much she was enjoying talking to him. He was incredibly funny and she found herself laughing a lot more than she had in a while. She also found herself thinking about how cute he was, though she wasn't so sure what that meant. After all, this was the boy who teased her and was friends with that awful Greg. As Lucas finished his story, he turned to look at Lisa and scooted just a tiny bit closer to her. She smiled.

"Thanks for saving me from Holt," she said. "I _really _didn't want to dance with him."

"I thought you liked that guy," Lucas said.

"Don't tell anyone, but I think he's really annoying." She chuckled. "He's always talking and he won't leave me alone."

"Well I'm glad I could help out," Lucas replied with a nod. There was a moment's silence and then Lucas said, "Would you have wanted to dance with me anyway?"

Lisa didn't answer immediately, wanting to find the honest answer. "Yes," she replied finally. "I would have."

Lucas's face seemed to light up at her words. "I'm sorry I tease you so much," he said. "You know I'm just messing around."

"I know," Lisa said. "Why do you do it though?" She tried to keep any trace of hurt out of her voice, to let Lucas know that she was simply curious.

Lucas shrugged. "Honestly…" He took a deep breath. "I just wanted to talk to you and didn't know that I could get your attention any other way."

Lisa smiled. "Well you have my attention now," she said. "And there was no teasing involved this time."

"You're right," Lucas said. "And I'll never do it again. I promise."

Lisa laughed. "Pinky promise?" She held out her hand expectantly.

Lucas smiled. "Yeah. Pinky promise." He linked his pinky with hers and looked at her seriously. She looked back, their hands still touching, her heart beating faster as the contact made her skin warm. Lucas moved his hand slowly so his fingers laced through hers. "Will you go out with me?" he asked quietly.

"What?" Lisa asked, not because she didn't hear, but because she was surprised. Lucas flushed and let go of her hand.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I don't know why I did that. It was incredibly forward. Sorry." He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around uncomfortably. "I can't believe I messed up so bad," he muttered.

Lisa recovered from the initial shock of Lucas's words. "I'd love to," she blurted out. Lucas's head snapped over to face her.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said with a smile. "Really."

* * *

Lucas entered his house humming one of the tunes from the dance. He was incredibly glad he had decided to go. He couldn't believe Lisa had said yes to him. Girls never wanted to go out with him. He was too much of a geek. But Lisa was different. She was sweet and not judgmental. He was the luckiest guy in the world right now.

Lucas poked his head into James's room. He wasn't there. _Probably out with Sam,_ he thought, and though this would have made him jealous before, right now he was happy for his friend. He walked down to Greg's door and pushed it open, looking down at his friend who was lying in bed with his face in his pillow.

"Goodnight Greg!" he said enthusiastically.

"Mhm," Greg replied without looking up.

"Come on, I know you're not asleep," Lucas teased. Greg raised his head from his pillow and looked at Lucas, bleary-eyed.

"I _would_ have been asleep if you hadn't come down the hall humming," he snapped, and Lucas was taken aback by his sharpness.

"Sorry, dude," Lucas said, backing away. He had been planning to tell Greg about his date, but it didn't seem like Greg was going to share his enthusiasm. He went into the hall and closed Greg's door quietly behind him, tiptoeing down the rest of the hall and into his own bedroom. As he changed into his pajamas, his grin returned to his face. Tonight, not even Greg's moping could ruin his good mood.

**A/N: Spencer is an actual character from House. Do you remember her?**

* * *

**hazelnutmeg: Interesting point! I do have some interactions between Kutner and Thirteen planned (in their Bio class), but I didn't realize how much I had kept the characters apart from each other. I'll definitely write in some more interactions between everyone and thank you for pointing that out.**

**Anonymous: Sorry, its just my personal opinion that Chase is one-dimensional. I'm not looking to argue with anybody.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, they're awesome and so helpful. I'm glad you're enjoying the story!**

"Everyone was talking about you and Greg at volleyball practice yesterday," Taylor said as she and Allison walked from the cafeteria towards their first period classes.

"Really?" Allison said eagerly. "Were they saying good things?"

"Of course," Taylor replied. "They were totally shocked that you were on such good terms with a _senior_. And the upperclassmen on my team said that they thought he was really into you."

Allison grinned. "Good!" she said. "I really like him too."

"Do you think he'll ask you out?" Taylor asked.

"I don't know," Allison replied, and her smile faltered. "At the dance, everything was going really well, and then suddenly he started acting kind of weird and we didn't talk for the rest of the night."

"What do you mean, weird?" Taylor asked.

"It was like he suddenly lost interest."

"Hm," Taylor said thoughtfully. "Maybe you need to be, like, badder or something."

"What do you mean?" Allison asked.

"Well, Greg is a senior," Taylor reasoned. "Maybe he thinks you're too young for him. You have to act a little edgier, you know? Show him that you're a little harder to control. Boys like to be challenged like that, you know?"

Allison thought about what Taylor had said. "That _does_ make sense," she said. "I don't know. I'll try it."

"Tell me how it goes," Taylor said. "I've gotta go to math."

"Alright, see you," Allison replied, and she and Taylor parted as she headed for the English building. She was nervous as she walked to her classroom. Things had changed between her and Greg, for sure, and she wondered how he would act in class. Would it be awkward?

When she got inside Greg was sitting at his desk talking with Mr. Cotter. He glanced up as she came in but didn't do anything by way of greeting before returning to his conversation. Allison took her usual seat and began rummaging through her backpack to avoid making eye contact with Greg again. She kept her face buried in her things until Mr. Cotter called the class to attention.

"This weekend, you all read chapter nine for homework," he began. "I'd like to know if anyone has anything in particular that they'd like to discuss."

"Let's talk about when Holden makes a booty call," an obnoxious boy named Johnny Sanders called out. Allison rolled her eyes. Johnny was always trying to talk about the raunchiest parts of the book.

"Alright," Mr. Cotter said, to the surprise of the class. "I think that's a worthy area of discussion." He opened his copy of the book. "So, Holden sees some people in the hotel windows that he calls 'perverts,'" Mr. Cotter said. "But then he begins to feel turned on, so he calls a girl that he once met at a party to see if she wants to meet with him. What do you think this whole scene shows about Holden's character?"

Annabelle Miller raised her hand. "I think it shows how messed up he is," she said in her usual high pitched, judgemental voice. "I mean, he's, like, spying on people having sex. It's disgusting. And then he tries to call some prostitute. It's weird. It shows he's immature."

Out of the corner of her eye, Allison saw Greg roll his eyes. "Alright," Mr. Cotter said, "that's a valid point of view. Does anyone disagree?"

"I do," Allison said, surprising herself with her forwardness. "I don't think this scene makes Holden seem messed up. I think it shows how human and normal he is. I think it shows how he is like every other teenager, even though he doesn't want to be."

"Explain," Mr. Cotter said. Everyone in the class was looking at her now, and as she glanced over at Greg's curious eyes, she could hear Taylor's words ringing in her head.

"Well he likes sex," she said. "He likes to watch people do kinky things. And he tells himself that its gross but it makes him horny anyway. Because he's just a normal person. That's what people do." She paused. "Isn't it?"

"Are you saying that you like to watch kinky porn?" Johnny Sanders asked under his breath. Several people snickered, and Allison blushed.

"That's enough, Mr. Sanders," Mr. Cotter said sternly.

"If no one was turned on by that kind of thing, why would people do it?" Allison said, turning in her chair to look straight into Johnny's eyes. "The reason why Holden is so conflicted in this scene is because of society's standards like these. He has to pretend not to like what he sees because that's what everyone is _supposed_ to do. But people secretly like it. I mean, come on. Everyone knows that."

"Thank you, Allison," Mr. Cotter said, and Allison noticed he looked slightly uncomfortable. _Maybe I went too far_, she thought nervously. "Annabelle and Allison both made good points. Perhaps we should move on…" As Mr. Cotter flipped through the book to a different scene, Allison glanced over at Greg. He was still looking at her. She focused her attention forward and tried to pretend she was indifferent to his watchful gaze.

When class ended, she dawdled, packing and repacking her backpack until she was the only student left in the room. As she pulled her backpack over her shoulders, Greg approached her. "Hey Allison," he said.

"Hi," she said, blushing. "I, um, had fun on Saturday."

"Yeah," he replied. "Can we hang out again?"

Allison's stomach flipped and she struggled to keep her happiness from showing. "Sure," she said in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

"Come by my room after dinner. Dorm four. We have a T.V. and stuff. It'll be fun."

"Alright," Allison said, unable to keep a straight face any longer. She grinned widely as she said, "I'll see you then."

"Yeah, see you," Greg said. Allison headed towards the door, a new bounce in her step. She couldn't wait to tell Taylor.

* * *

"I'm passing out the pig hearts now," Mrs. Evans announced to the class. "Please don't make any incisions until I instruct you." She walked around the room with a cooler, taking out the cold, slimy pig hearts and placing them on each lab's tray. Remy rolled her eyes at the excited look on Lawrence's face. She just wanted this class to be over with.

"Goggles on or you won't get one," Mrs. Evans said sternly to Remy as she came to their lab station. Remy pulled the clear plastic goggles over her eyes with a sigh and Mrs. Evans placed the offensive object onto their tray. Lawrence immediately began to play with the instruments, sizing up each scalpel to see which one he should use.

"Don't touch it yet," Remy reminded him.

"I know, I'm just getting ready," Lawrence said. "Aren't you even a little bit excited?"

"Nope," Remy replied.

"I don't believe you," he said.

"Believe it. It's true."

"I think you just like to pretend you don't care about anything to seem cool," Lawrence countered. Remy groaned. She had never met someone so aggressively annoying. It was like he wasn't even scared of her.

"You're right, Lawrence," she said sarcastically. "I can't wait to cut open the goddamn fucking heart."

"Jeez, calm down," Lawrence muttered as Mrs. Evans cleared her throat from the front of the room.

"I want you all to find the left ventricle," she said. "Make a careful incision down the front of the heart." Lawrence didn't bother asking Remy if she wanted to make the first cut, and he selected a scalpel to begin cutting. Despite herself, Remy found herself watching in interest.

"Hey, so you strike me as the type who drinks," Lawrence said as he marked a line to cut.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Remy asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "I just wanted to see if you'd be at all interested in buying a fake ID."

Remy laughed. "You make fake IDs?"

"Yes," Lawrence replied, unabashed.

"And you sell them?"

"Well…not yet, but we will."

"Alright," Remy chuckled. "Well, thanks. But I'm good."

"You already have one?" Lawrence asked.

"I _am_ the fake ID," Remy muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean I'm the supplier," she whispered through her teeth. "I get the goods for everyone else."

"Oh, I see," he said. "So basically, you're taking my business." He smiled to show he was just teasing.

"I guess so," she said with another laugh. "But hey, I hope the sales go well for you."

"Thanks, I hope so too," he replied.

Remy picked up the scalpel. "I'll help. Tell me where to cut."

"The left would be a good place to start," Lawrence said, and together they began to carefully dissect the heart.

* * *

As the bell rang, Lucas and Greg gathered their books and began to walk out of history class. "Hey, I've been thinking," Greg said. "Maybe we should take the train into Manhattan this Friday."

"I don't know," Lucas said hesitantly. "I don't think I can."

"Why not?" Greg whined. "It'll be fun. We did it before."

"I know we did, and it wasn't fun because we didn't have anywhere to stay!" Lucas said. "We just wandered around until the morning trains started."

"I have some extra money, I'll get us a place," Greg promised. "Come on, I bet James will wanna go too. Hey, I bet we can get a hooker."

"I really can't," Lucas said. "I'm sorry. I have a date."

"What?" Greg said in surprise. "Dude! You didn't tell me that. Who with? That hot girl from the town? If it's is, you better share her."

"No, it's not her," Lucas replied. "It's with Lisa"

"With…with Lisa?" Greg suddenly went quiet.

"Yeah. I asked her out at the dance and she said yes."

"Alright," Greg said, giving Lucas an icy glare." "Fine. I'll get someone else to go with me."

"We can go next weekend," Lucas said quickly. "I really wanna see the city again."

"Yeah, well I doubt we'll want to go two weekends in a row," Greg said. "So whatever. You'll have to go some other time." He picked up speed as they walked across the courtyard.

"Hey, wait up," Lucas said, running to catch up with him. "Look, I know you don't like Lisa that much, but can't you just be happy for me? Like a good friend?"

Greg stopped walking and whirled around. Anger flashed dangerously in his eyes. "Fine," he said. "I'm happy for you." Then he turned and began to speed walk away again, and this time, Lucas didn't bother following him.

Greg was fuming the entire way to his room. What the hell did Lucas think he was doing? Throwing away their friendship for a girl. And Lisa Cuddy! The girl they teased all the time. Why would Lucas want to go out with _her_? He reached his dorm and flung open the front door, getting ready to storm down the hall to his room. But the sight on the couch stopped him. On James's lap, with her arms wrapped around his neck and her lips pressed against his, was none Sam Carr. He dropped his books onto to the floor in pure shock and James and Sam looked up at the subsequent crash.

"Greg!" James said in surprise. "I…um…hi."

Greg stared at his friend in horror, unable to fully comprehend what James and Sam were doing. He turned and stormed down the hall, pulling out his phone as he went. As soon as had he entered his bedroom and slammed the door, he flipped open his phone and hit speed dial 13.

"Hello?" a voice answered.

"Thirteen. Do you have the usual?"

"Only for you, Greg," the girl replied. "You want it tonight?"

"Yeah. After dinner behind dorm four. You can come hang out if you want. I won't be bringing my friends."

"Alright," the voice on the phone said. "I'll be there."

Satisfied, Greg slammed his phone shut and collapsed onto the bed. Suddenly he was very, very tired, and all he wanted to do was fall asleep for the next few hours and forget about everything that had just happened. In fact, that's what he decided to do. He grabbed his iPod and turned the music up loud as he closed his eyes and settled into the pillow. Thankfully, James sensed his need to be alone and didn't try to come and talk to him. Good. He didn't want to see those lying bastards that had once been his friends ever again. He just wanted to forget about them.

But as he drifted off, thoughts of Lisa Cuddy plagued his mind.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks for reading and for all the American readers, Happy Fourth of July!**

"I don't have anything to wear," Allison whined.

"Just wear the minimum amount of clothing, that should be fine," Taylor replied. She was lying on the bed, working on math homework and being unbelievably unhelpful.

"No, but this is like the make it or break it with Greg," she said. "If he doesn't like me this time, I'm done."

"Do you know what you guys are going to be doing?" Taylor asked. "You haven't even given me sufficient information."

"I don't know," Allison said in frustration. "He just told me to come by his dorm. He said something about T.V."

Taylor sighed. "Alright, you can borrow the sexy skirt."

"What's the sexy skirt?" Allison asked curiously.

"It's exactly what it sounds like," Taylor said. "And don't show it to anyone that you don't have to show it to. I'm trying to keep it fresh for emergencies only."

"This is definitely an emergency," Allison said as Taylor got up from the bed and went over to the dresser. She opened a drawer and rummaged around for a few moments before turning around with a grin on her face.

"Here it is," she said, holding it up. Allison found herself staring at a black leather mini skirt, shorter than anything she owned and certainly unlike anything she had ever even imagined herself wearing.

"I don't know," she said with some trepidation.

"Come on, at least try it on," Taylor said. "It's not as short as it looks."

"Fine," Allison said, sliding out of her jeans and reaching for the skirt. "But I can't guarantee I'll wear it." She unzipped the small zipper and pulled it on. It was surprisingly comfortable, and it fit her perfectly. Allison glanced down at her legs. "I'm going to the bathroom mirror," she announced.

"Wait!" Taylor said, opening Allison's dresser and looking through the clothes. "You need to put it on with a different shirt to get the full effect." Allison sighed but agreed, and she waited as Taylor looked through her stuff. Finally, she pulled out a small pink tank top.

"I wear that to sleep," Allison pointed out.

"Just tryyyy it," Taylor sang, tossing it over to her. Allison changed her shirts and looked at Taylor in exasperation.

"Now can I go?"

"You look totally hot," Taylor said in excitement. "Go look." Allison rolled her eyes at Taylor and walked down the thankfully empty hallway to the bathroom. Then she went and stood in front of the full length mirror.

She was surprised and slightly pleased at what she saw there. If her parents had seen her, they would have made her change immediately—not that she'd ever worn anything close to this risqué at home. The skirt barely covered her ass, and the tight tank top exposed almost an inch of her stomach and created a startling amount of cleavage. There was no way she could go out looking like this. But then again, she was a freshman girl going to a senior boys' dorm at night. Was she really going to worry about dressing appropriately?

Taylor appeared in the bathroom doorway. "What do you think?" she asked.

"It's outrageous," Allison said. Taylor pouted. "But I think it's perfect," she added.

"Yay!" Taylor said. "Greg is going to love you in that."

"I hope so," Allison said, twirling around in front of the mirror. Taylor disappeared for a moment and came back with Allison's makeup bag. "Thanks," Allison said, pulling out her eyeliner.

"So remember, I want to know _everything_," Taylor said, for what had to be the hundredth time. "When do you think you'll be back by?"

"No idea," Allison said. "I haven't really thought of an exit plan yet."

"Just go with the flow," Taylor said. "And leave right before things get awkward."

"How will I know when it's right _before_ things get awkward?" Allison asked.

"Trust me. You'll just know."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Allison was sneaking behind the cafeteria. She had underestimated how far the seniors' dorms were and how creepy the journey was at dark. The cafeteria had closed already, and Allison didn't see anyone. The ground was littered with dead leaves and each one made a loud crunch when stepped on. How had she been talked into sneaking out of her dorm? She had never done anything bad in her life. Allison shivered and pulled her jacket around her, glad she had thought to bring one. She was planning on taking it off as soon as she got to Greg's, anyway.

As the senior dorms drew nearer, Allison heard the comforting sounds of talking and laughter within them. She began to breathe more freely as she got closer to the houses. As she got to the first one, someone walked onto a porch down the row, and she darted behind the wall. She remembered Lisa Cuddy telling her that teachers lived in one of the houses, and she didn't want to be caught by one. It would be obvious she wasn't a senior. Allison decided to walk behind the houses, hoping there would be a back door.

As she passed the second house, she saw a small light about twenty yards in front of her. It seemed to be flickering—it would appear for several seconds and then go away again. Allison moved towards it curiously, noticing that it was behind the fourth house in the row, which she assumed to be Greg's. As she got closer, she realized that it was a tiny fire, and there were some dark figures huddled around it, though whether they were trying to stay warm or trying to hide their tiny flames, Allison was not sure. She wondered if any of them were Greg or Greg's friends that she had seen him talking to at the dance. Maybe they could confirm that this was Greg's dorm.

Allison tiptoed closer, knowing that they wouldn't be able to see her over the brightness of the flames. She wanted to make sure that she recognized them before she spoke, to avoid exposing her rule-breaking to some seniors that would get her in trouble. As she got closer, she could see that there were three distinct figures. Allison was just getting close enough to see a face when a loud crunch sounded from beneath her foot.

"Holy shit!" one of the people said, jumping up. Allison looked down and realized that she had stepped on a leaf. Realizing there was no point in keeping herself hidden any longer, she walked forward so that she could be illuminated by the fire. A scrawny, black haired boy was standing facing her, panting. "Who are you?" he asked warily.

"Take a chill pill, Alvie" a girl's voice said from the ground. "You're gonna put out the fire if you keep creating so much wind." Allison looked down towards the sound of the voice, but the girl's face was covered by a black hood from her jacket. Allison glanced back up at the boy who had been addressed as Alvie.

"I'm sorry, I was looking for Greg," Allison said nervously.

"You came to the right spot," Allison heard Greg say. She turned to her other side and saw Greg sitting on the ground, holding a can and looking up at her. "I was hoping you'd be able to find us."

"Oh, hey," Allison said, glancing at the dorm behind her for a moment before sitting down awkwardly. This wasn't exactly the romantic evening with Greg she had had in mind, and she wondered why Greg hadn't told her what they were actually going to be doing. Now she felt unprepared and awkward around these strange people. Alvie collapsed to the ground in front of her and looked at her across the flickering fire.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," he said resentfully.

"She was just being subtle, which is more than I can say for you," the girl snapped, and Allison looked over to see her properly. She pulled off her hood and shook out her long, brown hair. "Hi, I'm Remy," she said. "you must be Allison."

"Yeah," Allison said. "Hey." Now that she was really seeing Remy for the first time, she wasn't surprised that all the guys liked her so much. She was really stunning. Next to her, Allison felt strictly average and found herself wishing she had gotten Taylor to do her hair or something. How would Greg pay attention to her with this girl around? At least she had Taylor's sexy skirt. Allison pulled off her jacket and tossed it behind her. Then she turned to Greg, who was looking at her clothes appreciatively.

"Do you want a beer?" he asked, and Allison noticed for the first time that his can was not soda, but a Bud Light. She hadn't prepared for this particular scenario, and she began to get nervous. She'd never tried alcohol before. What if Greg noticed?

"Sure," Allison said, trying her best to sound cool. Greg glanced over at Remy, who reached into a bag next to her and pulled out a can of beer. Allison took it, accidentally brushing Remy's fingers as she did so. Blushing, she opened the can and forced herself to take a long sip.

"Hey why did you bring this guy?" Remy asked, pointing over at Alvie. "He's acting really jumpy and won't drink any beer. Is he high or something?"

"He's always like that," Greg said with a shrug. "And he doesn't drink beer because if he did, his brain would probably explode."

"I can hear you guys," Alvie said. "Stop hating."

"Fine, but you really need to calm down," Remy said. "You're gonna give us away. I liked James and Lucas better."

Allison struggled to think of some way to insert herself into the conversation. She didn't want Greg to think she was boring. Buying some time, she poured more beer into her mouth. It was actually pretty good.

"You should be glad I didn't bring those other guys," Greg said. "They both have loser girlfriends now. You would be disappointed."

Remy sighed and laughed. "Sorry to hear that," she said. There was a pause in the conversation, and Allison knew she had to say something.

"Where did you get the beer?" she asked. It wasn't exactly a riveting topic, but at least she was talking.

"Thirteen has connections," Greg said.

When Allison looked confused, Remy said, "That's my code name."

"Why do you have a code name?" Allison asked.

"So that if anyone is being stupid and calling me for a deal where someone can hear them talking, they won't say my name and no one can trace it back to me." Remy narrowed her eyes at Greg as if this was something he had done before.

"But why Thirteen?"

"Because she's everybody's unlucky number," Alvie said with a snicker. "Isn't that right?"

"Shut it," Remy said. "I don't know why it started. A bunch of guys decided to put me as speed dial thirteen, and then it caught on."

"Interesting," Allison nodded. She looked at Remy. "Where do you get your alcohol?"

Thirteen smiled secretively. "One question too many," she said.

"Hey Greg," Alvie said. "If you're so mad at your friends for having girls, why did you bring her?" He pointed over at Allison, who blushed and kept drinking.

"I said I was mad because they had girlfriends I hate," Greg clarified. "Allison's cool."

Allison smiled, slopping beer down the front of her shirt. She wiped her mouth quickly and tried to sink into the shadows.

"So, you're a freshman?" Remy asked.

"Yeah," Allison replied, and to her surprise, she found that the word was difficult to form. She looked at her can and found to her surprise that she had consumed more than half the can. Was she getting drunk?

"She's cute," Remy said, turning back to Greg. "I'm surprised, she's not the type you usually go for."

"What type is that?" Allison asked with a slight raise of her eyebrow. She took another swig of beer.

Remy thought for a moment. "Young, I guess. Naïve. Inexperienced…"

"A virgin," Alvie added helpfully. "Isn't that what you were going to say?"

"Don't be mean," Remy snapped.

"What makes you think I'm so inexperienced?" Allison challenged. The beer was making her feel a lot braver. "I've done lots of things."

"Oh, really?" Remy asked, laughter evident in her eyes.

"Yes," Allison said, turning towards Greg. She knew she had said the right thing. He looked pleasantly intrigued.

"So you've kissed a guy before, then?" Remy asked.

"Of course," Allison said nonchalantly. Actually, the only time she'd ever kissed a guy before was in third grade at recess. He had fallen off the slide, and in her attempt to help him up, her lips had accidentally brushed against his. He'd run off crying. But Remy didn't need to know that.

"Second base?" Remy asked. Allison nodded, thinking that it was less of a lie if she didn't actually say anything.

"Have you ever kissed a girl?" Greg asked seriously. Allison turned around in surprise. She wasn't sure what she should answer to the question. She hadn't ever kissed a girl. Should she lie? No, Greg would see through that.

"Um," Allison began.

"She hasn't," Remy replied.

"Ha ha, you've kissed enough girls for all of us," Alvie snickered. Remy gave him a cool glare and he fell silent.

"I'm not sure I believe you," Remy said, looking at Allison curiously. Her examination made Allison nervous, and Remy could probably tell, because she smiled. "I'm just teasing."

"Well it's all true," Allison said, looking at Greg reassuringly. "And I've kissed a girl before."

Greg grinned. "Kiss Remy, then."

"Wh—what?" Allison asked in surprise.

"If you're so experienced, it should be fine, right?" he encouraged. Allison glanced at Remy, who was still smiling.

"Of course," Allison said. She drained her beer can and scooted closer to Remy on the ground. Briefly she thought about how she was about to have her first kiss with a girl she had only met less than an hour ago. It wasn't how she had imagined her first kiss would be. It wasn't what she wanted. But she had gotten too boastful and now she was going to pay for it. Greg laughed.

"Alright then," he said. "I'm impressed."

At these words, Allison felt warm and fuzzy and realized that if she did this, Greg would be hers. He would know she was worth his time, because she wasn't some naïve fourteen-year-old; she drank beer and kissed random girls like it was no big deal. She turned towards Remy, who was no longer smiling, but was looking at her with a mixture of desire and hesitancy. "Greg, don't force her," she said.

"I'm not," Greg replied, "she said she would do it."

"Alright," Remy practically whispered, and as she began to lean in, Allison let her eyes flutter shut. She was surprised at the warmth of Remy's lips as they met her own and the softness and carefulness with which Remy was kissing her. It was actually kind of nice, and she wondered whether kissing a guy would be the same. As Remy deepened the kiss, Allison tried to imagine it was Greg who she was kissing. But she couldn't quite manage it. Somehow, she knew Greg's kiss would be rougher. Like he wouldn't be as careful with her. She didn't know why she thought it, but suddenly she wondered what the hell had gotten into her head that she felt the need to be drinking beer and making out with a girl.

When Remy pulled away and Allison a look at Greg's awestruck face, she began to wonder what she had been thinking. Of course Greg would be careful. He had been nothing but a perfect gentleman to her the whole time they had spent together. Allison looked back at him in a cool defiance. She knew she had passed an unspoken test that he had set up for her—that she was now, in his eyes, an equal.

"Lights out soon!" a teacher's voice called loudly, and Alvie jumped.

"Is it that late already?" Greg asked, reaching into his pocket for his phone to check the time.

"Relax, we can stay," Remy said, rolling her eyes. "Don't be a baby."

"We should probably put out the fire, though," Alvie reasoned.

Allison had not taken her eyes off of Greg. "Walk me back to my room," she said with a smile. She had meant it to be a question, not a command, but it came out as one. However, Greg did not seem to mind.

"Sure," he replied, standing up. Allison stood up too, grabbing her jacket off the ground. She felt slightly unsteady on her feet and knew she was probably kind of drunk. Which wasn't surprising, considering that she hadn't ever had anything to drink before and her tolerance for the stuff was likely very low. She knew tomorrow she would probably regret the drinking, and even regret kissing Remy, but right now she had Greg's undivided attention and she felt great.

"Thanks for the beer," Allison said to Remy.

"Sure," Remy replied, but she did not make eye contact. She was looking at Greg with a note of resentment. "I'll see you around."

"Alright, bye Alvie," Allison said, walking over to Greg. Alvie gave her a small wave and Greg took her hand as they started to walk away. She laced her fingers through his nervously as they walked farther and farther from Remy, Alvie, and the small fire. Greg seemed content to stay silent and Allison followed his example. The journey that she had taken on the way to the senior area had seemed scary, but the one back was absolutely blissful, and she never wanted it to end.

They got to the freshman dorms entirely too soon, and Allison and Greg stood by the wall so they wouldn't be seen. "I'm glad you came over tonight," Greg said to her.

"Me too," Allison said, looking into Greg's eyes. She wondered fleetingly if she should kiss him. It felt like the right thing to do. But she was drunk and her judgment was off, and besides, she wanted him to make the first move. He seemed to be debating with himself as he looked at her, and she wondered why he was hesitating. But at least he did not seem to want to leave yet, and the thought that he felt the same way about her as she felt about him made her shiver in pleasure.

"Are you cold?" Greg asked in concern. "You should go in."

"Yeah I probably should," Allison said regretfully. "Bye." She lingered for a moment, to give him one last chance to kiss her. He didn't, but he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her face against his chest. She gave him a tight squeeze and then let go. "Goodnight," she said.

"'Night Allison," he replied, and to Allison's pleasant surprise, he remained by the wall watching her until she had entered the building and closed the door behind her.

* * *

**Monkey and Music Lover: At this point, I'd say Greg is confused about his feelings both for Cuddy and for Cameron. As for the pairings, all will be revealed...**

**Maara Hatake: How silly of me! I got overconfident and decided to talk about bio, which is something I don't know much about. Thank you for the correction :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: SO sorry for the hiatus! My laptop charger died and I couldn't get to the chapter 10 that I had written. Anyway, problem solved, and here you go! Thanks for reading :)**

"So how do you actually make a fake ID?" Maya asked. She was sitting in one of the rolling chairs in the computer lab watching Lawrence play around on Photoshop. Chris rolled his chair closer to hers as he answered.

"First we have to edit the ID on Photoshop so we can put in the name, picture, and birthdate," Chris explained. "Then we print it on this stuff called Teslin. It's not what they actually make IDs out of, but it's a lot cheaper and it looks legit—at least, we hope it does. After we print it onto the Teslin, we laminate it with these things called butterfly pouches. They're made to be the same size as the ID cards. We're trying to make a sample now."

"How does this look?" Lawrence asked, adjusting the monitor so Chris could see it clearly. "Realistic?"

"Yeah, it looks good," Chris said, eyeing Lawrence's handiwork. Lawrence had scanned in a California drivers' license that they'd borrowed from one of their dorm mates and Photoshopped his own face into it. He'd also changed the name to his own, and his birth date so that he was twenty-one years old.

"It looks awesome," Maya agreed, "but shouldn't you use a Jersey license? Wouldn't that be less suspicious?"

Lawrence opened his mouth to answer, but Chris got there first. "The thing is, these licenses have all sorts of symbols and colors on them that don't really show up when you scan it, in order to prevent counterfeiting. If we use a license from a different state, the people who are examining it probably won't be able to tell it's fake because they will be less familiar with what the real one looks like. Also, we are assuming that anyone who buys from us will want to pretend to be a college student from Princeton or something, and for college students, an out-of-state license is commonplace."

"Wow," Maya nodded, impressed. "Smart thinking."

"Hey Chris, is the Teslin loaded into the printer?" Lawrence asked. "I'm ready to test this sucker out."

"It is," Chris told him. "I loaded it already."

"Good," Lawrence said. He hit print on the computer and the printer began its slow work. "I have to get the butterfly pouches from the dorm," he said, standing up. "Watch the printer, will you? And don't touch it until I come back. It might smear."

"Sure thing," Chris said as Lawrence left the room. He looked awkwardly over at Maya, who was watching him. Unsure of what to say, he decided to pull his cell phone out of his pocket and pretend to be texting.

"Did you go to the mixer?" Maya asked after a moment's silence. "I didn't see you there."

"Yeah I was there," Chris said, closing his phone and putting it back in his pocket. "Um…did you have fun?"

"Yeah, it was alright," Maya replied. "But I was hoping to see you," she added with a slight smile.

Chris swallowed nervously. "Why?"

"So we could hang out. Maybe dance a little. I don't know."

Chris felt as though he were frozen to his chair. Was it possible that Maya was flirting with him? "I'm a terrible dancer," was all that Chris could manage in reply.

"I'm sure you're just being modest," Maya said with a chuckle. "And anyway, I wouldn't have cared. I still would have wanted to dance with you."

Chris could not think of a suitable reply. He looked over at the door, willing Lawrence to hurry back. Part of him wanted to stay here alone with Maya, but he wasn't sure he could keep up with her suggestive words, and anyway, he was sure Rachel would not approve one bit if she could see the situation he was in. "Should we look at the ID? It's done printing."

"Sure," Maya said, rolling her chair over to the printer. Chris followed her. _Crisis averted_, he thought. _For now_.

* * *

Allison's first English class with Greg since their "date" was torture. She could barely concentrate on anything Mr. Cotter was saying. She kept feeling Greg's eyes on her, or found her own eyes wandering over to him. Several times, they made eye contact, and it seemed to last a few seconds before each of them would look away. Allison was still confused about why Greg didn't kiss her, and was worried that they weren't going to hang out again. They hadn't made any plans for an official sort of date. Did that mean Greg wasn't interested? Yet he kept looking at her…the confusion was too much to bear, and when the bell rang, Allison breathed a sigh of relief and hurried out of the room.

Once she had left the English building, she lingered around the math one, waiting for Taylor. When her friend emerged, Allison ran over to her. "You have to help me," she said immediately.

"No progress on Greg?" Taylor guessed.

Allison nodded. "He's not dropping any hints. He kept looking at me though…damn him, why didn't he kiss me?"

"Maybe he was just being a gentleman," Taylor reasoned. "Maybe…he didn't want to move too fast?"

"Does that really sound like something Greg would do?" Allison asked hopefully.

"Well…honestly, not really," Taylor said apologetically. "But hey, maybe something will happen at the first home game!"

"What's that?" Allison asked. She'd been so preoccupied with Greg over the last week that she'd been pretty out of the social loop.

"The football game. It's this Saturday," Taylor said. "It's a big deal, or so Riley tells me. Pretty much everyone goes. It's a bigger deal than the mixer, for sure."

"Hm," Allison said thoughtfully. It sounded like a good place for her to spend some time with Greg. Maybe she could finally get a good read on how he felt about her.

* * *

"I'm not sure how I feel about her," Greg muttered.

"What's that?" Mr. Nolan asked patiently. He was meeting with Greg again, but instead of sitting behind his desk as he had done on the first day of school, they were both seated on comfortable chairs with only a low table between them. Mr. Nolan had begun the meeting by asking some questions about Greg's social life.

"You asked if there were any girls in my life. I said I'm not sure how I feel about her." Greg looked at the ground as he spoke. He was already regretting sharing so much.

"Would you mind elaborating?" Mr. Nolan asked. "Don't feel like you have to. I know this is our first meeting and it can be uncomfortable."

Greg looked up at Dr. Nolan. The feeling of anger that he had had last time they had talked was gone. It had been replaced by a feeling of exhaustive indifference to the man. He was confused and he might as well tell Nolan about it, and make the man think that they were making some sort of progress. Maybe he would end these meetings earlier.

"She's nice and cute and smart," Greg said quietly.

"Have the two of you been spending a lot of time together?" Dr. Nolan asked gently.

"I think she's waiting for me to determine how much time we spend together," Greg said. "I just don't know…"

"Don't know how much time you _want_ to spend with her?" Dr. Nolan prompted.

"I guess so," Greg replied. "I feel like—I feel like I should feel something more when I'm with her. If that makes any sense."

"It makes perfect sense," Dr. Nolan told him. "But sometimes you don't feel that spark until the relationship starts to develop. Like on a first date or a first kiss."

"So you think I should go out with her and see?"

"I think you should do whatever you feel comfortable with," Dr. Nolan said. "But I think that allowing yourself to connect to someone will really help you in the recovery process."

Greg sighed. He hated how Dr. Nolan said "recovery process," as if he were sick or something. But what he said kind of made sense. Maybe he hadn't given Allison enough of a chance. Greg nodded in agreement with Dr. Nolan.

"Just be careful, though," Dr. Nolan warned. "Don't do anything that might hurt her. You'll only end up hurting yourself."

"I know," Greg said, and this time, he really meant it. Because he'd been through all of that before. He knew what it was like to lose someone…

* * *

"Thank you for dinner," Lisa said as she and Lucas walked out of the Japanese restaurant in the town. "It was good,"

"Thanks for agreeing to go out with me," Lucas replied. "Not many girls are brave enough."

Lisa laughed. "I like to live dangerously, I guess," she said. "But really, I had a great time."

"Good," Lucas replied. "I could never understand why I'm not more desirable. I mean, look at me. I'm practically Brad Pitt!"

"It _is _hard to resist," Lisa agreed through a chuckle. There were a few minutes of silence as they started to climb the hill up to the school. Then Lisa said, "Maybe it's because of Greg."

"What?"

"Maybe girls don't go out with you because of how much time you spend with Greg. Because he's so…"

"Obnoxious?" Lucas prompted helpfully. Lisa nodded, glad she wasn't the one who had to say it.

"I'm sorry, it's just that sometimes I wonder why you hang out with him."

"It's okay," Lucas said. "A lot of people wonder. Greg puts on a rough exterior. He's really not that bad of a guy."

"Oh," Lisa said, but she seemed unconvinced. Lucas noticed this.

"Remember when Greg dated that girl Stacy in sophomore year?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course," Lisa replied.

"I think when they broke up and she transferred schools it really…I don't know, messed him up somehow. He never wanted to talk about it. And he's never really been the same since."

"But people break up all the time, Lucas," Lisa said. "And they don't become…like Greg."

"I'm not saying it's an excuse," Lucas reasoned. "But something happened between him and Stacy that we don't know about, I'm guessing. Then he got into drugs and started pushing people away. But he's not a bad person. He's just…confused."

"I suppose," Lisa agreed. "Sorry to bring him up. He just really seems to hate me." Lucas didn't say anything, and Lisa assumed the worst from his look. "He hates me, doesn't he?"

"I doubt he _hates_ you," Lucas said. "But honestly, I don't think he's a huge fan of you. Not that it matters, because I am." He shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled at Lisa, who smiled shyly back.

"I just don't know what I did to make him dislike me so much," she said with a sigh. "I just wish I knew."

"So you could fix it?" Lucas asked. "But you don't like him either. So why does it matter?"

Lisa thought for a moment. "I don't know," she said. "It just matters." They had reached the gates to the school and they walked though the campus in silence. It was not much later than nine o'clock, and since Friday curfew was ten, there were still several people hanging out in the courtyards, playing Frisbee and enjoying the last of the warm nights before autumn started. Many heads turned as Lucas and Lisa walked past.

"We're so popular," Lucas noted.

Lisa laughed awkwardly. "They're just surprised to see us together, I think. I mean, we weren't really friends before, were we?"

"No I guess not," Lucas replied. They reached the senior houses, and Lucas walked Lisa to her porch. "Well I guess this is it," he said.

"Thanks again," Lisa said. "I had fun."

"Me too," Lucas replied. "Maybe we can do it again sometime?" His voice was hopeful.

"Sure," Lisa said with a smile.

"Awesome," Lucas replied. After a moment's hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. Lisa's eyes fluttered closed at the contact, and she felt warmth flood her entire body. When he pulled away, she smiled.

"Goodnight," she said, turning to head towards her door.

"'Night," Lucas replied, and he turned towards his own house, a smile on his face. Lisa opened her door and entered with a huge grin on her face. She was surprised to see two of her classmates, Shannon and Bailey, standing by the window, looking at her.

"Were you spying on me?" she asked in mock indignation.

"Maybe," Bailey replied with a laugh. "Sorry."

"So the date with Lucas the Doofus ended well?" Shannon asked.

"Don't call him that," Lisa frowned. "And yes, it went very well."

"Are you guys dating now?" Bailey asked.

"I guess so," Lisa said, and she smiled again. "He said he wanted to go out again."

"Don't you think you're a little…I don't know…too good for him?" Shannon asked.

"What do you mean?" Lisa replied defensively, moving towards the hallway.

"I mean, isn't he always mean to you?" Shannon continued.

"Yeah, and you're smart and pretty and he's just…well, Lucas the Doofus," Bailey added. "Still, if you're happy with him…"

"I am," Lisa said firmly. "He's a great guy. And I'm going to go to sleep now, so goodnight."

"Alright," Shannon said as Lisa left the room in frustration. Who were they to make judgments? They didn't even know Lucas. Maybe he wasn't her usual type, but he had made her laugh tonight more than she had laughed in a long time. And she was going to keep seeing him, no matter what Shannon, Bailey, or even Greg had against it.

* * *

**TheWhiteWolf: Allison is small and has never had alcohol before, so she could probably get a pretty good buzz from drinking an entire can of beer. Yes, beer and cough syrup contain about the same percent of alcohol, but this is irrelevant to your point because people don't drink entire bottles of cough syrup. I appreciate corrections, but not the mean-spirited ones. I'm pretty sure this is the second such review that you have left, so if you have another problem with something in this story, please don't leave an anonymous review and rob me of the opportunity to message you privately.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry for the late update :P Hope you enjoy!**

In Allison's opinion, the weekend could not have come fast enough. Greg did not try to talk to her in English for the rest of the week, and on top of all of that, she was having trouble concentrating in class when he was around. Mr. Cotter had reprimanded her in front of Greg and all of her classmates for not paying attention, and it had been extremely embarrassing. She was glad when Saturday came and the week was finally over. And of course, there was the football game to look forward to.

Allison work up early on Saturday in the anticipation of finally talking to Greg. She showered and got dressed, then waited impatiently for Taylor to wake up, and for eleven o'clock to roll around to they could go to the game. She sat in her room and tried to do her homework, but she was too distracted. Finally, she gave up, and went on a long walk around the campus. By the time she got back, the rest of the girls on her floor had woken up, and as a large group, they headed down to the field.

Allison was surprised to find that the bleachers were quite full when they got there. Taylor led her over to an empty space in the second row and they sat down—coincidentally, they were right behind Taylor's brother, Riley.

"It was the only space left, sorry," Taylor said to him.

Riley grinned. "It's alright, sis," he said.

"This is Allison, by the way," Taylor said to Riley, and Allison gave a small wave. Riley nodded in response.

"Who are we playing?" Allison asked him.

"Northview," Riley replied. "It's a small boarding school about thirty miles south from here. Last year we were undefeated except for them."

"So it's a pretty important game, then?" Taylor asked.

"Yep," Riley replied.

"Is our team good?" Allison asked.

"Yeah, they're pretty good," Riley told her. "Of course, they're probably going to be better this year now that Eric Foreman is finally captain."

"Who's that?"

"He's that guy over there," Riley said, pointing to a tall, muscular Black boy who was tossing a football with his teammate in the corner of the field. "Varsity since freshman year, and he was the starting quarterback last year. But Coach Rob didn't want to make him captain as a sophomore last year, even though everyone knew he's the best player on the team. I think Eric could have gotten them to play better than they did last year."

Allison watched Eric as he caught the football easily and came running towards the bleachers. He stopped at a bench on the sidelines and began chugging water as his coach approached him. The two began a hurried conversation.

"That's weird," Riley said.

"What is?" Allison asked. Riley was looking up the bleachers, at something behind Allison. She turned around to see what it was.

"Lucas Douglas and Lisa Cuddy," Riley replied, and Allison saw the two of them walking towards a spot in the bleachers together. They were holding hands.

"Oh yeah, I saw them together at the mixer," Allison said. "Aren't they going out?"

"If they are, it must have started recently," Riley said, still eyeing the couple curiously. "I thought they hated each other. So did everyone."

"Hm. Weird," Taylor said uninterestedly, turning back to face the field. "Is the game going to start soon?"

"It should," Allison replied, checking her watch. "It's almost eleven." She looked up again just in time to see Remy Hadley walking in front of the bleachers. When she was nearly level with Allison, she looked up and smiled in greeting. Allison, forcibly remembering the last time they'd been together, smiled awkwardly back.

"Remy!" a voice shouted from the field, and Remy turned around in surprise. Allison watched as Eric Foreman walked towards Remy. Remy rolled her eyes but Allison could see the beginnings of a smile playing about her lips.

"What do you want, Eric?" she asked when he got closer.

"You," he replied. His friends in the bleachers, who had overheard, snickered, but Eric's face was serious.

"Stop being so immature," Remy replied.

"You going to be watching me today?" he asked. "Or are you heading out?"

"No, I'm staying," Remy said. "At least, I'll stay as long as you keep things interesting."

"I will, I promise," Eric replied. From the field, Coach Rob called to his team to huddle up. Remy turned towards the bleachers. "You better watch the whole game!" Eric called to her retreating form. "You're my good luck charm!" Remy merely laughed and continued to walk away, and Eric's eyes lingered on her before he ran back onto the field.

"It's about to start," Taylor said excitedly as both teams formed their final huddle. Allison saw the cheerleaders heading to their spots on the sidelines. She recognized Amber Volakis among them. As the teams took to the field, they waved their pom poms in the air.

"Here we go," Riley said, staring intently at the field. Allison tried to match his and Taylor's excitement, but the she was nagged by the thought that, since the game was starting, all the spectators should have already arrived. So where was Greg?

* * *

As the first quarter came to a close, Greg finally spotted Allison from his spot near the top of the bleachers. He had promised himself that, whatever reservations he may have, he would talk to her at the game today. When he saw her now, however, sitting with her friend and talking to a boy in front of her, a large smile on her face, he wondered if talking to her was a good idea.. She seemed so happy, so eager, and so pure. Whereas he was broken. There was no point in trying to deny it. He knew that Dr. Nolan had a point when he spoke of healing Greg, even if Greg pretended he didn't need to be healed. He was damaged. What if he damaged her, too?

In the end, though, he decided to go and talk to her, mainly because he was getting lonely. For the last week, he had barely talked to anyone. James and Lucas had tried to strike up conversations with him earlier in the week, but he had been silent, and they eventually took the hint. He wasn't even all that mad at James anymore, but he had too much pride to forgive James for keeping such a big secret from him. Lucas, though…he was still angry with Lucas.

Greg got to his feet and pushed past the other people in his row until he reached the stairs. Then he made a beeline for Allison. He had to get to her quickly before he started thinking about his friends, because it only made him miserable. He got to the grass in front of the bleachers and walked towards her. She looked up at him as he approached. At first, she seemed surprised to see him, but then her face split into a smile. Greg was relieved. He had been worried that she was mad at him for giving her the cold shoulder in English class.

"Hey Greg," Allison said. Her friend looked up when Allison spoke and her eyes flicked back and forth between Greg and Allison. It made Greg feel awkward.

"Hi," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. Suddenly, he wasn't sure what he should do next. Allison seemed to share his sentiments. She shifted awkwardly in her seat.

"This is Taylor," she said, indicating her friend.

"Hey," Taylor said, still looking at Greg as though he were some strange species she had never seen before.

"Hi," Greg said uncomfortably. "Uh, do you want to go get a snack or something?"

Allison looked quickly at Taylor, who nodded encouragingly. Greg sighed. He hated teenage girls in groups. "Sure, I'd like that," Allison said, and she got to her feet, hopped past the boys in front of her, and landed at Greg's side. "I'll be back in a little bit," she said to Taylor.

"Take your time," the Taylor replied with a grin, and Greg hurried to get away from her. He and Allison walked past the bleachers and to the Student Store that was by the gym, which sold snacks during all of the big games. They didn't talk until they had joined the line to buy food.

"What do you want?" Greg asked.

"Um," Allison eyed the menu that was displayed on a poster by the counter. She seemed nervous. "What are you getting?"

"Chocolate chip cookie," Greg said without having to think about it. He always got the chocolate chip cookies from here. They were delicious.

"I'll get that too," Allison said, relieved. The line moved slightly forward, and as Greg made to take a step, he was stopped in his tracks by a small cough behind him. Recognizing it, Greg whirled around.

"Hi Greg," James said quietly, standing to the side of the line and eyeing Greg with apprehension.

"Hey," Greg replied stoically.

"Uh, are we cool?" James asked.

"That all depends on you," Greg replied, avoiding James's eyes. Allison was watching their conversation in confusion.

James took a deep, resigned breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I was dating Sam," he said.

Greg nodded. "Apology half accepted," he said.

"What?" James asked in confusion. "Why only half?"

"Because you didn't apologize for dating Sam in the first place."

James's expression turned quickly from confusion to anger. "I can date whoever I want, Greg," he said coldly.

"Of course you can," said Greg. "But while we're friends, you can't date Sam. I'm just looking out for you," he added.

James looked as though he wanted to put Greg in his place, but Greg got the sense that the other people in line were listening to their conversation, and James seemed to realize the same thing. Allison was looking uncomfortable. "We'll talk about this later, then," James said, and he left sulkily. Greg rolled his eyes and turned back to Allison.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"Nothing, just my friend is dating this total bitch and he doesn't even realize it," Greg said. "I just had to set him straight."

"Hm," said Allison. She was quiet for a moment. "He seemed kind of afraid of you," she said finally, referring to James.

"Afraid?" Greg paused thoughtfully. It was probably true, though he had never noticed it before. "Well, I guess it's better to be feared than loved."

Allison looked as though she disagreed, but didn't want to say so. _Maybe she's afraid of me too_, he thought. The idea made him feel strangely isolated. They reached the front of the line and Greg pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "Two cookies, please," he said.

Once they had their large cookies, Greg and Allison turned to go back towards the field. Greg, however, was greeted by a sight more unwelcome than James. Lucas and Lisa were walking towards the student store, talking and laughing and looking gross. "Dammit," Greg muttered. He grabbed Allison's free hand with his own. "This way."

"What-?" Allison began, but she was cut off as Greg dragged her away. They hurried past crowds of people, dodging Lucas's line of sight, and went over to the back of the bleachers. They slowed to a walk, but Greg did not let go of Allison's hand as he led her underneath the bleachers and weaved between the metal and stone pillars that held them up.

"Sorry," Greg said finally. "I just saw some people I didn't really want to talk to."

Allison gave a small laugh. "That seems to happen to you a lot."

Greg shrugged. "I've been here too long, I guess. Everyone will get on your nerves eventually." He sat down on the stone foundation of one of the pillars. "Come here," he said, opening his jacket pocket. He put his uneaten cookie inside and pulled out a flask as Allison drew nearer towards him. "You can sit down."

Allison looked around uncertainly. "Where?" she asked. The stone foundation was too small to fit two people. Greg patted his left leg, and Allison shyly sat down on his lap, sideways, so her face was level with his own.

"Want some?" he asked, lifting the flask.

"Sure," Allison replied and she took it, unscrewing the top with fumbling hands. Greg smiled. He had suspected that Allison was not as experienced with alcohol and sex as she had pretended last week, and now he felt as though his suspicions were being confirmed. But if she wanted to keep pretending, he wasn't going to call her bluff. Allison took a small sip and handed the flask back to Greg.

"Do you like it?" he asked. "It's pomegranate flavored vodka." He took a long sip and gave it back to Allison.

"It's good," Allison nodded. She drank some more and looked at Greg. As their eyes locked, he suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He pulled the flask slowly from her hand and screwed the top on tightly, dropping it to the ground next to them. Then he wrapped both his arms around her waist.

"Sorry I didn't talk to you much in English. It's not because I don't like spending time with you," he said. He still felt bad about the mixed messages he'd been sending, even though he had been genuinely confused about his feelings.

"It's okay," Allison said breathlessly. She was still staring into Greg's eyes longingly. _Alright_, Greg thought, _no more talking_. He leaned in slowly and pressed his lips to hers.

Allison's arms made their way up to Greg's neck and wrapped around it, and Greg took this as an invitation to deepen the kiss. He tightened his arms around her waist, surprised at how much he was enjoying this. Allison's lips tasted like vodka and Greg explored her mouth hungrily, not wanting to pull away. Allison finally did, for a quick breath, and then she pressed her lips to his once again. "I really like you, Greg," she gasped between kisses.

"Same," Greg replied breathlessly, and Allison didn't seem to care that he hadn't said it back.

* * *

Allison felt like she was floating on a cloud all day. She and Greg had spent the remainder of the football game beneath the bleachers, kissing and sipping vodka. PPA had beat Northview in what Taylor said was a spectacular win, but Allison didn't even care that she had missed it. Spending time with Greg had been worth it. After the game, Greg had had to go back to his dorm to talk with James, but he seemed regretful and gave Allison one last, long kiss before he'd left. She went back to her dorm in a state of ecstasy, unable to talk about anything but Greg, until finally Taylor had given up and gone to the library to study. Now she was walking to dinner alone, but she didn't mind. In fact, she rather liked the uninterrupted thinking time.

Allison walked slowly to the cafeteria, enjoying the fading sunset and in no hurry to get to dinner. Lost in another reply of her time with Greg, she didn't even notice that she was not alone until she heard a voice.

"I saw what you did with Greg today." The words came from behind Allison, and she whirled around, startled. Remy Hadley was coming up behind her, eyes narrowed and suspicious.

"Have you been following me?" Allison asked.

"Just going to the cafeteria," Remy said, stopping in front of Allison. "So tell me. Are you two dating?"

Allison was pretty sure she and Greg had reached the point of being official, but she fetl uncomfortable talking about it with Remy, especially since the girl had sounded so accusing. "None of your business," she replied coldly.

"No need to talk like that," Remy said. "I'm trying to help you."

"Well, I don't need your help," Allison replied, turning around and continuing to walk. Remy kept up pace beside her.

"Look, you can do whatever you want. But I'll feel guilty if something happens and I never warned you."

Allison stopped walking again. "What are you talking about?" she asked, but her voice was less demanding than before. She was curious to see what Remy was talking about.

Remy took a deep breath. "Last year…Greg had a lot of drug issues," she said. "And alcohol issues. He still buys the stuff, too, even though it's not as frequently. I think he's an addict."

Allison bit her lip. She wanted to defend Greg, but in all honesty, she thought Remy could have been right. But she didn't want to believe it. "You're one to talk," she said finally.

"I do that stuff occasionally," Remy conceded. "But mostly I just supply it. I don't use it all the time. I'm not like him."

Allison was quiet. There was no use in arguing with Remy. What did Remy know? Even if Greg really did buy drugs, he could have been reselling it, and anyway, everyone made mistakes. Greg hadn't offered Allison any drugs, and he didn't even drink excessively, so why did it matter? Once Allison had filled her head with these rationalizations, she felt much better. "Okay," she replied, turning to leave once again.

"I'm serious," Remy said. "Be careful."

"Thanks," Allison said dismissively, and with that, Remy understood that the conversation was over.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: As always, thanks for reading!**

As September turned into October, the sun began to disappear and the days got colder. That is, they were colder for everyone except for Allison and Greg. Allison had spent the better part of the last month with her new boyfriend, watching movies on his laptop at night, exploring the tiny town on the weekends, finding the best places on the campus to make out in secret and testing out each and every one. Sometimes, they would hang out with James and Sam, and the four of them would sit on the porch of James's and Greg's house and play poker. However, Allison noticed that Greg and James did not seem entirely comfortable with each other after their fight, so most of her time with Greg was one-on-one. This, however, didn't bother her in the slightest. She loved being alone with Greg, especially when they were just talking. She liked how much he seemed to understand people, and how insightful he was. He seemed more open-minded than the rest of the people she had met.

There were also some social perks to her relationship, and even though Allison tried to pretend that it didn't matter, it was pretty cool that almost everyone in the school knew her name. She was the only freshman who was currently dating a senior, and that was a juicy bit of gossip for the rest of the student body to focus on. Additionally, Allison had made a bunch of friends that she wouldn't have otherwise. Sam and Allison liked each other from the start, and Sam often talked to her between classes and at lunch. James made it a point to say hi to her whenever he saw her. Even Lucas, though he was still barely talking to Greg, gave a wave when their paths crossed. The only person who did not seem to like Allison was Lisa Cuddy. Though they had met once, and though they were often in the boys' house at the same time, Lisa rarely acknowledged her presence. Allison chalked this up to the fact that Greg did not like Lisa, and Lisa probably didn't like Greg, and decided not to read too much into it.

The only issue was Taylor. Allison tried hard to spend time with her friend, but she often lost track of time while she was with Greg and didn't give Taylor the time of day that she deserved. She had introduced Taylor to Sam and James, but when all of them hung out together, Allison could tell that Taylor felt awkward and left out. Eventually, she stopped attempting to include Taylor and tried simply to spend more time in the dorm with her friend, but it was difficult to balance everyone. Taylor hadn't said anything about it, but she always seemed distracted and unenthusiastic when Allison talked to her, particularly when it was about Greg. Furthermore, she always seemed to be finding excuses to avoid Allison. This was evidenced at the end of one physics class, when Taylor rushed out as the bell rang without waiting for Allison to catch up.

"Taylor, wait," Allison called after her. Her words were wasted, however; her friend was already well outside the door. "Damn," she muttered, packing up her own books. So far, she was having a lousy day. Greg had been working on homework in the morning and couldn't eat breakfast with her, and then she got a C- on her physics test. Now Taylor was in a particularly bad mood. What else could go wrong?

"Allison, can I see you for a minute?" her physics teacher, Mrs. Evans, called from the front of the classroom.

"Sure," Allison said apprehensively. She approached Mrs. Evans, and the teacher waited until the rest of the class had left before holding up Allison's test.

"I just wanted to check in with you. All of your tests and quizzes since the beginning of the year have been in the A range. What happened?" She didn't seem angry, but rather, concerned.

"I don't know," Allison said, ashamedly. The truth was, she did know. She hadn't bothered to learn anything from the last unit—she'd been so occupied with Greg. In fact, she could remember how she spent the night before the test. While everyone else was studying, she and Greg had been fooling around on his bed. Allison started to smile at the memory, and she forced herself to look solemn. "I guess I didn't have a very good grasp of this material."

Mrs. Evans nodded slowly. "It certainly seems like it." She paused. "Is anything bothering you?"

"Not at all," Allison said quickly. "I just didn't really get this unit. And I really want to make up for the grade. I promise I'll study harder for the next test."

"Okay, that's good," Mrs. Evans said. "I just wanted to make sure. You are one of the best students in the class, after all." Allison flushed with pleasure and slight embarrassment at being complimented. "Maybe you should come and meet with me before the next test?"

"Of course," Allison said, wanting Mrs. Evans to know she was serious about her schoolwork. "I think that's a good idea."

"Perfect," Mrs. Evans said. "The next test is on November 2nd, a Monday, so could we meet on the Sunday before? Say, ten o'clock, November 1st?"

"I'll be there," Allison assured her.

* * *

"So the Halloween fair is right around the corner," Amber said to the members of the Make-a-Wish club. "And we're going to make a booth for it, like James suggested. So the question is, what should we sell?"

"We should advertise," Sam said. "Pass out bulletins for sure. Maybe sell t-shirts or something?"

"I think we should also have some food," James said. "That's always popular."

"Good," Amber said. "I think we have enough time to order the shirts if we do it soon. We'll need some possible designs, though."

"Why don't we draw up some samples right now?" James suggested. "There's lots of paper in here." There was a murmur of assent from the rest of the group, and Amber passed out some paper.

They spent the meeting drawing designs and voting on them, and then they split up the baking for the booth. The planning went smoothly, and James was proud that his idea to have the booth was working well so far. Amber seemed to be pleased, too, because after the meeting, she approached James.

"Hey," she said. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping me out with some of the booth stuff. I'll need to spend a few hours on the weekend planning and organizing."

"Okay," James said, taken aback.

"You don't have to agree right now, you can check your schedule and stuff. I know it's a lot to ask," Amber said quickly. "It's just that I need help and you seem to have a lot of really good ideas."

"Oh yeah, it's no problem at all," James said. "I'd be glad to help."

"Great," Amber said with a smile. "Thank you so much." She touched James's arm lightly as she walked away.

"She wanted you to help her?" Sam said, coming up behind James.

"Yeah," James replied. He was wary of her tone. Sam sighed and left the classroom, and James followed with some trepidation. Once they were alone, she turned to him.

"Say no," she demanded.

"What?"

"Tell Amber you can't help her."

"Why?" James asked. "She needs help. I have to."

"You don't _have_ to," Sam corrected. "She's been doing this thing for the last couple of months, like she's trying to get you to like her or something, and I don't like it. I don't trust her."

"You barely know her," James countered. "So you can't judge her character. And you're being ridiculous. Just because she wants me to help her out, you think she's trying to seduce me? Talk about overreacting."

Sam's eyes turned cold and she glared at James so harshly that he immediately regretted what he'd said. But he knew he was right. After a moment of glaring, Sam spoke. "I'm your girlfriend and I can be irrational if I want to. I'm not saying you have to say no to Amber. I'm just saying that you have to say no to her if you want to keep me."

James looked at Sam in disbelief. "So what, you're just gonna break up with me because I'm helping her set up a Halloween booth?" Sam did not answer, and James felt a wave of irritation. "Well I guess you're going to have to dump me, then, because I'm going to help her. And if you want to throw away our relationship because I'm doing charity work, then you're crazy." With that, James speed-walked past Sam and didn't slow down, even when he heard her calling his name from behind.

* * *

"This business totally sucks," Lawrence said, swiveling around in his chair. He and Chris were once again in the computer lab, only this time, Chris was doing homework. They weren't making any fake IDs because so far, they hadn't had any orders.

"It was your idea," Chris said. "I never thought it would work."

"Liar," Lawrence said. "You wanted it to work."

Chris hit save on the essay he was working on. "What can we do? We're nerds. No one wants to buy a fake ID from us. I mean, look at us. We spend all of our time in a computer lab."

"I just really thought this was going to take off;" Lawrence said, and he sounded so disappointed that Chris felt bad for him.

"Hey, it might still work," he said optimistically. "We're still working on getting our names out there. Eventually, people will tell their friends and we'll get some business."

"I hope so," Lawrence said, but he still sounded glum.

"Hey guys. Thought I'd find you in here," came a voice from the doorway. Chris looked up. It was Maya. "What's up?"

"Homework," Chris replied. "And Lawrence is moping."

"Why?" Maya asked, making her way over to them, and sitting down in a chair.

"The fake ID business isn't going as well as he'd hoped," Chris informed her.

"Actually, it's not going at all," Lawrence corrected.

Maya smiled. "I disagree," she said.

"What are you talking about?" Lawrence asked.

"I just got some orders," she said. "It's no big deal. Just that seven of the guys in Brode want IDs in time for the Halloween fair. They're willing to pay one hundred dollars each."

Both Chris and Lawrence were silent for a moment. Then, slowly, each of them began to smile. "You're kidding," Lawrence said to her.

"Not kidding," Maya said with a grin.

"Yes!" Lawrence said, jumping up from his chair. "This is awesome!"

Chris and Maya got up too. "Seven hundred dollars!" Chris exclaimed. "Maya, you're the best." He hurried over to her and hugged her tightly. They held on to each other slightly longer than they should have, and Chris pulled away blushing.

"This calls for a celebration," Lawrence said, seemingly unaware of the awkward moment that had just passed between Maya and Chris. "What do you say? Dinner?"

"Sounds perfect," Maya said. "We'll go this weekend."

"Yeah, good idea," Chris said with a nod.

"Alright, then it's settled," Lawrence said. "But in the meantime, we have work to do. We gotta make those IDs."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Sorry it's so late and short, but I have the next chapter ready to go, so you'll get it tomorrow :)**

As Chris, Lawrence, and Maya entered the gates of PPA, Maya slung her arms over both their shoulders. "Congratulations," she said. "Your business is really taking off."

"_Our_ business," Chris corrected, putting an arm around Maya. "And it's thanks to you we even got those orders."

"Well yeah, but you guys are the brains," Maya said. "And the celebration was great."

"Dinner on the town has never tasted so good," Lawrence agreed.

Chris laughed. "I think it's because we knew we had the money for it."

"True," Maya agreed. The three of them walked across the campus together, arms around each other, towards their dorms. Chris couldn't stop himself from smiling. Something about being with Lawrence and Maya felt very perfect. He still couldn't quite believe that a girl like Maya would want to hang out with guys like them, but the idea that Maya was not as superficial as most people in their class was very refreshing. Hence, the smiling.

The only thing that would have made the evening more perfect was if he could have stopped thinking about Rachel every five seconds. He had almost invited her to dinner with them, but then decided that since she didn't know about the ID business, it would be awkward if she joined them. So he had spent the entire evening with a guilty feeling in the back of his head, remembering that she was alone in her dorm while he was out with a girl that Rachel didn't even know he was friends with. It felt a little bit like he was sneaking around.

They reached Lawrence's and Chris's building, Jonathon-Michael, and the three of them stopped walking. "Well, goodnight Maya," Lawrence said.

"'Night," she said, and her eyes wandered over to Chris. Chris opened his mouth to say goodbye, but he didn't really want to leave, and Maya seemed to sense this because she said, "Walk me to my dorm?" The invitation was very clearly only addressed to Chris. Lawrence skulked awkwardly towards the door.

"Sure," Chris said, and Maya headed over towards Leighton Hall. It was right across the courtyard from JM, and in Chris's opinion, the journey was entirely too short.

"I had fun tonight," Maya said, leading Chris all the way to the door. "Thanks for hanging out with me."

"We should do it again sometime," Chris blurted out. He regretted it immediately afterwards. He had a girlfriend, and it wasn't entirely appropriate for him to be asking other girls to have dinner with him. But he couldn't help himself.

Maya smiled. "Alright," she said. Then she leaned forward and surprised Chris by giving him a kiss. It was short and innocent enough, but as she pulled away and opened the door, Chris suddenly realized that he wanted to kiss her again, kiss her more. Rachel was the furthest thing from his mind as he struggled to speak.

"Wait," he said finally. But it was too late, and Maya had already disappeared inside her dorm.

()()()

"So we need to make sure we call the fair and ask them where we're allowed to set up our booth," Amber was saying.

"Yeah," James replied, staring at her intently but barely hearing her. He and Amber were alone in the classroom where their meetings usually took place, sitting across from each other at a small desk and making arrangements for the upcoming fair. Or at least, Amber was making arrangements. James was trying to help, but for some reason he could only think about how he was finally alone with the girl he'd had a crush on since the first day of her freshman year. Amber seemed to notice that he was distracted.

"Are you okay?" she asked in concern.

"Yeah," James said quickly, forcing himself to pay attention. "Um, we should also see if they'll rent us a tent."

"Good thinking," Amber said, jotting it down on the piece of paper in front of her. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd be just fine," James said. "Seriously. I'm not being very helpful today, and I'm sorry."

"No, you've been great," Amber said, looking up at him and smiling. "You seem to really care about this club. You're a hard worker."

James shrugged, blushing. "Not as much as you," he said. "I think you've done a lot of great things for the club."

Amber sighed. "I just want people to know I can do things for others. Everyone thinks I'm just…"

"Just what?"

"A self-centered bitch," she said with a mirthless laugh.

"People really think that?" James asked. He was surprised. Amber was really popular; he had thought everyone liked her.

Amber nodded. "They do," she said. "It's okay, though. I can deal with it."

"Well those people don't know you like—they must not know you very well," James said. He had been about to say 'They don't know you like I do,' but it sounded a little creepy.

"Thanks," Amber said. "You're really sweet, you know that?"

"Um—thanks," James stammered. "Uh, do you want to make that phone call now? To the fair?"

"Sure," Amber said, and she pulled out her cell. As she looked up the number and dialed, James watched her breathlessly, willing his stomach to stop doing flips. _Sweet_…he thought to himself. _She said I was sweet._

()()()

Remy Hadley rubbed her eyes hard, willing herself to focus on the computer screen in front of her. She had to write two more pages of a ten page history essay due tomorrow, and she wanted to finish before the library closed at ten. It was so hard to focus in her dorm room. She glanced at the clock in the corner of her screen. Twenty more minutes until ten…damn. She'd never finish in that time. And if she went back to her dorm, Spencer would want to talk to her, and she'd never get the stupid paper done. Plus, she had her other homework to deal with. She really needed to stop saving all her work until the last minute.

After one more glance around the empty library, Remy looked back at her book on the civil war. She read a few sentences, and then paraphrased them in her essay. She knew her work was crap, but what could she do? She had to finish it or she would get another bad grade and a call from her dad. As her fingers clicked over the keys of her laptop, she heard footsteps behind her.

"Whatcha doing?" a voice said into her ear, and she jumped. She hadn't expected that the footsteps were coming from so close behind her. Angrily, she whirled around in her chair to face Eric Foreman.

"Working," she said, "and I have barely any time left to do it, so don't distract me. Please," she added.

"Relax, I won't bother you for too long. I just had a quick question." He sat down in the chair next to her and stared her down.

"This isn't a very quick question," Remy said after a moment of silence. But her voice was not hostile. Despite her previous annoyance with him, she was sort of glad to see Eric now. She'd been alone in the library for almost five hours.

"Are you going to the fair on Saturday?" he asked finally. Remy noticed that he seemed slightly nervous.

"Yeah," Remy replied slowly. She was pretty sure she knew what was coming next.

"Well, maybe we could hang out together. Not like a date or anything," he said. "Just to hang out."

Remy smiled to herself. She pretended to think it over. "Not like a date, you say?" Eric nodded. "Well…sure, then, why not?"

"Awesome," Eric said, getting up from his chair with a grin. "I'll see you later, then?"

"See you," Remy replied, turning back to her computer. As she continued reading from the book, she found that she was not as tired as before. _That Eric is really messing with my mind_, she thought. But for once, it didn't alarm her that she enjoyed his company. For once, she felt like she could actually fall for someone.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So, I promised a quick chapter! Thanks for reading :)**

"So this is the Halloween fair," Allison observed aloud as she and Greg entered the town on October 31. Considering that the town was very small, she was surprised at the number of booths and tents set up. She could see carnival games, fundraisers, merchandise, and food being sold every way she looked. All of the PPA students had come to the fair, as well as many more teenagers who Allison could only assume were from some of the public schools nearby. It was quite an event.

"You like it?" Greg asked. "This is one of the only PPA rituals I haven't gotten tired of over the years."

"Yeah it's cool," Allison nodded.

"The coolest part comes in the evening," Greg said. "The whole thing turns into a big party. It's awesome. You just wait." He took Allison's hand and they walked through the booths slowly, browsing.

"Oh look, there's a booth from PPA," Allison said, pointing over to the left. "It's the Make-A-Wish club. Wanna go check it out?"

"Sure," Greg said, and they walked over towards the booth. Allison saw Amber Volakis and James Wilson standing behind the table, handing out flyers. There were quite a few people crowded around. Allison and Greg walked up to an empty space next to Robert Chase.

"Hey," Robert said to her when she approached him.

"Hi," she said back, and Greg nodded in acknowledgement. Allison saw Robert's eyes rest for a moment on Greg's face, and he looked surprised. _He must not know about us_, Allison thought, and she found it strange that someone as popular as Robert wouldn't have heard about that piece of gossip. But she forced herself to stop wondering about Robert as James approached them.

"Hey Allison…Greg," James said from within the booth.

"Hey," Allison said. "This is a great booth you guys have. Did you set this up?"

"Amber and I did, yeah," James said. "We're hoping to get some money for the club this way, and raise awareness."

"It's a great idea," Allison said.

"Thanks," James replied. He looked over at Greg, who had remained silent during the entire interaction. "Um, Greg…can I talk to you for a second? Alone?"

"I guess," Greg said, looking apologetically at Allison before joining behind the table to join James. The two of them headed for the back of the tent, and Allison politely turned away so she wouldn't be watching them. Unfortunately, she turned straight towards Robert. Allison gave him a small smile and hurriedly looked the other way. She could still feel Robert's eyes on her, however, and it made her uncomfortable. She was just beginning to wonder how much longer Greg would be when Robert spoke.

"So, you're with Greg now, huh?"

Allison turned around. "Yes," she said, almost defiantly.

"Hm…" Robert said thoughtfully. "Well…be careful. He just—he had some trouble with drugs stuff."

Allison felt a sinking sensation in her stomach, but she forced it to go away. She wanted to ask Robert for more details, see what he knew, but from the look on his face, she knew that Robert wanted her to show interest. He wanted her to doubt Greg. So she refrained. "Greg is amazing," she said instead. "You're just jealous."

Robert smirked. "Maybe a little," he said admittedly. "Still," his tone became more urgent as Greg headed back towards them. "Watch out." As soon as Greg had reached Allison's side, Robert slipped quickly away into the crowd.

"Well that was strange," Greg said.

"Who, Robert?" Allison asked, wondering if Greg had heard their conversation.

"No," Greg said. "James."

"Oh, right. What did he want?"

"He wanted to tell me that he had a fight with Sam," Greg said. "And that maybe I was right about her."

"Well that's good," Allison said. She wasn't really listening to Greg, however; she was still thinking about what Robert had said.

"I don't know if it's good," Greg continued, oblivious to her distraction. "It's not really like him to give in like that…I wonder if he's met someone else…"

"Hey Greg," Allison interrupted. "Can I ask you a question?"

Greg looked at her, surprised. "Sure," he said.

"Did you ever…um…use drugs?"

Greg's expression became stony. He avoided Allison's eyes as he spoke. "Have you been hearing rumors or something?" he asked quietly.

"I don't believe them," Allison said quickly. "I just wanted to know…if there's anything that you wanted to tell me."

Greg sighed. He was quiet for several moments. Finally, he said, "Look, can we go somewhere more private? I have to talk to you about some stuff."

Allison's heart sank. "Sure," she replied.

* * *

"Lawrence, give it up, you're never going to make a basket," Chris said in annoyance as he watched his friend shoot hoops at the basketball booth. "You're wasting all your money."

"Hold _on_," Lawrence said in frustration. "I'm gonna get it."

Chris sighed. "Whatever," he said. He tossed the stuffed bear he'd won from the same game up and down in one hand. Unlike Lawrence, he had been able to make all the baskets on the first try. Glancing at the bear, Chris supposed he should give it to Rachel. After all, he hadn't talked to her since he'd kissed…

No. He couldn't let himself think about that. Whatever had happened between him and Maya was a mistake, and it wasn't going to happen again. He had to make himself believe it wasn't going to happen again. It was the only way he could stay sane, stay with Rachel, the girl he loved. Keeping Rachel was his number one priority.

"Yo, earth to Chris," Lawrence said from beside him. "I'm done shooting. Let's go."

"What?" Chris asked in confusion, looking up at his friend. "Sorry. I was zoning out."

"Clearly," Lawrence said. "What do you want to do now? Hey, maybe we should go meet Maya and hang with her for a little while. And Rachel, too, of course."

"No!" Chris said quickly. "I mean….sorry…let's just hang out for a while. We never hang out, just us."

"Uh, that's _all_ we do," Lawrence said, eyeing Chris in confusion. "But fine. Let's get some snacks. I'm hungry."

"Alright," Chris said, following Lawrence as they headed through the crowd.

"Hey, what's with you, anyway?" Lawrence asked. "You've been kind of weird all day. Nervous or something. Spaced-out."

"What are you talking about?" Chris asked. "I'm fine." He hoped he sounded convincing.

"Are you and Rachel in a fight or something?"

"No, we're okay," Chris said. "Why—why would you think that?"

Lawrence shrugged. "I don't know. She just hasn't been hanging around with us for a while."

"Yeah, I don't know why," Chris said. His mouth was starting to feel dry. Why did Lawrence have to bring up Rachel?

"We could have dinner with her tonight," Lawrence suggested. "If you think that will help things between you two."

Chris thought about it for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, actually, I think that'd be a good idea."

"Alright," Lawrence said. "But just to warn you, I'm gonna see if I can get some other people to come," he said. "I'm not gonna be your third wheel."

"No problem," Chris said, looking down at the bear in his hands. He would find Rachel, give her the bear, and ask her to dinner. That should prove to everyone that he still cared about her. And the IDs for the boys had been made. There was no reason for him to be around Maya anymore. As long as he could avoid her, and keep Rachel from meeting her, there was no reason why Rachel should ever know what had happened between the two of them…right?

* * *

Greg and Allison found their way to a bench on the edge of the fair and sat down. Greg took Allison's hand in his and looked at her for a long time before he spoke. "I used to do drugs," he said finally. "Not a lot. But sometimes."

Allison swallowed hard. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think I had to. See, I haven't used them at all since last June. It's a part of my life that's in the past and I wanted to keep it a secret. I'm sorry. I probably should have told you."

"It's alright," Allison said. She looked up into Greg's eyes, which looked sad. "Remy told me you used to buy drugs a lot."

Greg's expression immediately became cold. "She likes attention," he said. "She wants to cause problems. She wants to get people to listen to her."

"Oh," was all Allison could manage in reply. She wanted to believe Greg—she really did. But for some reason, she was still doubtful. "So you're saying you haven't done drugs at all…this school year?"

"Not at all," Greg assured her. "I promise."

"Okay," Allison said. Then she remembered something else. "If you only did drugs occasionally, how did Robert know about it?"

"Robert?" Greg asked in confusion.

"Robert Chase," Allison told him. "He was just talking to me earlier."

"Well, the first thing you need to know about Robert Chase is that he's a tool," Greg began.

"I know that," Allison cut in quickly. "I just wanted to know how he came up with the exact same rumor as Remy, if it's not true."

Greg sighed. "I was caught with some drugs in my room last year," he said. "Which was ridiculous, since I used way less than some other kids in the school. But I had the bag on my bed, and one of the teachers came in to check on everyone, and he saw it. Just my bad luck. It was one of the only times I ever bought the stuff."

"So what happened?"

Greg shrugged. "Nothing," he said. "I told them that I just found the bag. They trusted me. I wasn't punished."

Allison nodded. She felt comforted by the fact that the teachers had believed Greg. That meant she could believe him too. "Alright," she said. "Thank you for telling me. I'm not mad."

Greg smiled. "Good," he said. Then he leaned forward and kissed her. "Do you want to get some food?"

"I'd love some," Allison replied.

* * *

When Chris and Rachel arrived at the Japanese restaurant, they found that Lawrence had not yet arrived. Chris was not sure how many people Lawrence was bringing, so he told the waitress that they wanted a table for a party of four, and she seated them in a booth. As soon as she had left them, Rachel leaned into Chris's side with a smile. "Thanks for suggesting dinner," she said. "I was worried that we hadn't been spending enough time together."

"Me too," Chris said. "But don't worry. That won't happen again."

"Good," Rachel said. "I love you, you know that?"

"I love you too," Chris said. "And nothing will ever, ever get in the way—"

"Hey guys," a voice said from beside them. Chris looked up to see Lawrence, smiling at him and Rachel and standing next to a windswept Maya. Chris froze. _Oh crap_, he thought.

"Hey Lawrence," Rachel said cheerily, standing to give him a hug. "I've barely seen you all school year."

"I know," Lawrence said apologetically. "Oh, this is my date for the evening. Maya, this is Chris's girlfriend, Rachel."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Maya said, a huge, genuine smile on her face. She glanced over at Chris and the smile became more amused at the look on Chris's face.

"You too," Rachel replied. "Um, should we sit down?"

"Sure," Lawrence said. Rachel sat back down next to Chris, and Maya and Lawrence went opposite them. Maya took the seat directly in front of Chris, and Chris quickly pulled his legs in so they would not brush hers accidentally. She looked directly at him, and he couldn't help but stare back, couldn't help but notice how the wind had turned her cheeks a rosy pink and made her look more beautiful than she already was.

"How are you, Chris?" Maya asked, still giving him that amused look. "You look a little out of it."

"No, I'm fine," Chris said, smiling weakly. "Really, I'm fine. Um, should we order? Did you guys get menus?"

"Give them a minute, Chris," Rachel said with a laugh. She turned to Lawrence. "You've got to tell Chris to stop studying so much. He's acting all jumpy."

"Chris is a weird guy," Lawrence agreed.

"Hey, shut it," Chris reprimanded halfheartedly. He was practically sweating, and he could still feel Maya's eyes on him. The waitress came by with some water, and he began to chug it eagerly.

"So Maya, how do you know Chris and Lawrence?" Rachel asked.

"Oh, we worked on a project together," Maya said with a smile, winking at Chris. Chris glanced over at Rachel, who hadn't noticed.

"That's cool, what kind of project?"

"Math," Lawrence said quickly. "It was boring. How have you been lately?"

"Oh, I've been good," Rachel said. "Just struggling though chem class. You're so lucky you moved up to bio."

"Hey, if you ever need help sometime," Lawrence told her.

"Thanks, I might take you up on that."

"I might, too," Maya said with a laugh. "That class is pretty bad."

Lawrence shrugged. "It was okay."

"Yeah, if you're a genius," Maya countered. Rachel laughed, and Chris laughed quickly as well. But inside, he was far from laughing. What had he done to get himself into such a terrible situation?

* * *

When they had finished eating and paid the bill, Lawrence headed over to the restrooms. "I think I'll go, too," Rachel told Chris.

"Alright," Chris said, very aware that this was going to leave him alone with Maya. Maya didn't seem to notice, however; she was currently rummaging through her purse and seemed not to hear them.

"That Maya seems sweet," Rachel said in a low voice. "Think anything will happen with her and Lawrence?"

Chris forced a laugh. "No way," he said. "Not Lawrence."

Rachel shrugged. "Maybe not. Anyway, I'll be right back."

"'Kay," Chris said. As soon as Rachel had walked away, Maya bumped his knee with her own. Chris turned to look at her.

"Having fun?" she asked.

Chris gulped. "Why do you ask?"

"Only because you look like you had bad sushi or something."

"I'm alright," Chris said, wondering how many times he had said that today.

"If you say so," Maya said. She reached under the table and took his hand. Chris pulled it away sharply, causing hurt to creep into Maya's eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"My girlfriend is _here_," Chris said, panicked. "I can't be—holding hands with other girls and stuff."

"Relax," Maya said, resting both of her hands on top of the table. "Nothing's going to happen."

"Something already _did_ happen," Chris reminded her. "I don't know what that meant to you, that night, but, well, it can't happen again. Okay?"

Maya nodded. "Alright. If that's what you want. I understand."

"You do?" Chris asked in surprise. He had been expecting—or rather, hoping—that she wouldn't let him go that easily.

"Chris, I really care about you," she said. "And I want you to be happy. I don't want to ruin your relationship. So if you want to not see me anymore…that's okay."

She sounded so defeated, and Chris felt sadness well up inside him. "Maybe we can still hang out," he said. "Just not alone…wouldn't that be okay?"

Maya sighed. "I think we both know that's not a good idea. If you are serious about Rachel…we can't risk being tempted."

Even though Chris wanted to protest, he knew she was right. He needed to be away from Maya. He knew how she made him feel, and he didn't want to risk anything. But he needed to assure her that he did care about her. He couldn't leave her like this, feeling rejected. As he opened his mouth, however, Maya stopped him. "Lawrence is coming back," she said.

Chris looked up to see his friend approaching their table. "Hey guys," he said. "What did I miss?"

Maya took a deep breath. "Nothing," she said with a smile.

"Yeah," Chris replied with a sigh. "You didn't miss anything."


End file.
